You'll Be Safe With Me
by Fudgefeather
Summary: Ushiwaka has been a slave for many years, suffered much of the harsh treatment of many masters. When bought by the mysterious "Albino", known for presumably treating his slaves so harshly they died, he expects the worst... He did not except to be cared for so well... Nor did he expect the Albino to be a woman. AU, AmmyXWaka, mentions of slavery and past beatings.
1. The Albino

**AN: I blame KonekoYoukai for this.**

**And by _blaming_, I don't mean that I'm _angry_ about it... Indeed, far from it! I am _thanking_ you for this. Had you not posted that IsshakuXUshiwaka slave AU fanfic, I probably wouldn't have decided it was high time I wrote down some of my own fanfics like that...**

**This is actually a newer idea I came up with. It's probably... oh, I dunno, less than a month old? It does have similar themes to older stories I also never wrote (such as a RusLiet one from back when I was into Hetalia)... But unlike other stories, it's not just recovery for the one main character... Oh no. It involves the stories of many others, everyone that is in the house described at the end of this... but I'm getting ahead of myself.**

**I apologize if anything seems unrealistic, or if I failed to give proper descriptions like what Waka's feeling and what he's going through. I AM trying here... Also yes Ammy gets a human form in this. No, this is not necessarily in Japan at the time of Okami taking place. It is an AU, and can be at any time or place... This is partly due to the fact that I'm so used to modern things that there will probably be mentions of them in there when they clearly did not exist in Okami, partly due to how this story was conceived in my head, and definately partly due to my inability to research properly.**

**...On that note, enjoy the story.**

* * *

The shoppers, milling about the open market place, whether searching for goods or for food, all would turn uneasily to survey the progress of one swift creature. The wolf, as the creature was, pure white, its coat unsoiled by anything, neither dirt nor grass, paid little attention to the onlookers. "Careful, snowy white one," they would caution as she raced along to her apparent destination. "Do not continue along your pathway, lest your coat be stained with grime and filth and your pure soul turn black as night."

If the wolf heard their warnings, she did not obey, for she continued along, eventually reaching a doorway in a stone wall, noticeable only for its grime and decay amid cleanliness and beauty. Glancing around almost furtively, she dove inside. The shoppers, though saddened, could only return to their shopping.

For who would dare venture into the slave black market to merely retrieve a wolf- and thereby risk the wrath of the crowd, who would surely frown down upon a civilized person entering so vile.

* * *

Inside a sheltered area, closed away from the views of all, still riddled with filth like the rest of the area before her stood the white wolf. A deep sigh emanated from her; she knew all too well the horror of the townspeople watching something they perceived to be innocent enter such a place. But she had no time or place for this hesitation, no. Her duty lay ahead, and she knew the grimness of it well.

A white glow emanated from where the wolf stood, and suddenly there was no wolf, but a human, a white-haired human cloaked in the blackness necessary for the task ahead, and the two remnants of the wolf, ears and tail, carefully concealed within.

* * *

With that sudden transformation, the once-wolf exited from the purgatory between the pure, clean, beautiful area of the market into the grimy, worn down, ugliness that was the slave black market.

Slave traders and slaves themselves leapt back from the pathway before him. They did not know who he was, even if he was a he. They merely accepted him as a regular customer, and a well paying one at that. As if to remain under constant secrecy, which most slave traders agreed was a rather excellent policy, he had never even given any indication of his name. They saw, however, the pure whiteness of his hair under his black hood, and he was quickly dubbed, among the men of the darker, blacker parts of town, "The Albino".

His name and his secrecy were not the only reasons for his widespread fame, for why slave traders would hurry to put out their best wares and even the toughest of slaves cringed in fear at the name. Two years ago, when the Albino had first appeared, he asked for slaves fit for heavy labor, slaves fit for being worked hard. In jest, a trader had shoved two boys at him, telling him that they were his best stock.

They were immediately taken.

Since then, the Albino had kept coming back every month, searching for more slaves. Many traders noticed the pattern, a rough outline that seemed to govern his choices in slaves. He always chose ones that were thinner, weaker, not so used to the hardships that he was doubtlessly putting them under. After all, his need for more slaves, they reasoned, must come from a need of more to replace those who had died!

And yet, when no slave to his standards was found, the Albino would simply leave, muttering about how poor they were in selection. Each trader would shudder at the cold sharpness of the words, and each time they would resolve to give him what he wanted next time.

Today, the Albino moved rather quickly, showing many that they had failed to reach his precious standards once more. He continued to move until he reached one particular stall, enclosed in the rock walls. Rags littered the filthy floor, and rotted wooden planks were leaned carelessly in odd angles. Amidst these filthy conditions, one slave sat. It was a male, though this would not be clear by the length of his golden hair. It would, truly, have been beautiful, except for the grease coating it, doubtlessly from lack of proper care. He was unusually thin, and as his gaze looked at the white-haired customer, he flinched back in fear. He knew well the rumors of the Albino, as well as the pains and torment of slavery. And it did not help his fears that the Albino stopped, gazing towards him, before developing what could only be called a grin.

"You seem to have scored for the second time~" he told the trader. Not too long before, another slave, a boy younger than the one now sitting here but looking much the same had been bought by the Albino. It was clear he seemed to like this stock. "He's a rather nice looking one, isn't he?"

Looking at the shuddering slave, the trader half nodded. "I suppose so. Short-legged, but all his kind are…" he muttered, watching intensely as the cloaked man walked in, glancing the teenage boy up and down, walking all around him. He stopped at the back, snorted, and moved on. "I'll take him. How much were you asking for him?" he asked, jerking his head at the boy. The trader shrugged. "Oh, seventy-five thousand; I was hoping for eighty thousand myself."

A bag filled with the required money landed before the trader. He scrambled down, looking at the amounts to see how much he made. "Don't bother. It's seventy-nine thousand."

The trader looked up at the other man in surprise. The Albino, he knew, was ruthlessly honest for a slave owner, giving exactly what he promised he was giving. Yet, he also always made sure to give the slave traders the price they wanted if not for sales. "You're wondering why it's not the same price? Oh, I do apologize. You see, I would be utterly happy to pay a hundred thousand for this particular slave… Pity his back has been flayed like it is…" the Albino said, grin twisting as he ran a finger along the newly-bought slave's back. He convulsed, blue eyes widening, both in fear and in pain about his back, doubtlessly sore, being touched like that. "I- oh…" The slave trader said, nodding wisely. His mind conceived that perhaps this slave was not meant for hard labor… "W-well, give me full price and I'll let you have a free slave if you find another you like!"

The Albino chuckled. "Oh, no," he said. "I daren't. If I find another slave, I would deprive you of such a profit for that one~ Good night~"

With that, he walked away, pulling the slave behind him. The other slave owners retreated in disgust. The Albino never bought two slaves in one night, not since the first two he bought. It would be no use to attempt to sell him another slave.

* * *

Ushiwaka trailed just slightly behind his new master, cringing all the while in fear of what would happen to him now. He had already been a slave for years now, but each new master was still a terrifying experience. Each time brought the same treatment- work, dissatisfaction, harsh beatings. It did not help that this particular slave owner was well known for working slaves so hard they would die.

Remarkably, the man seemed almost as jumpy as he did. He hurried unnaturally fast with his new property, as if keen on escaping this dungeon-like place. The rope Ushiwaka was tied to, the rope that connected them, seemed strained at every second, but in truth, he simply just could not keep up with this tremendous pace. They weaved through the mazes of corridors, and finally, the burst through a side entrance, facing a wide expansion of fields. Ushiwaka shook, knees feeling ready to give out on him at any second from combined exhaustion, hunger, dehydration, and sickness. He knew all too well that many of the wounds across his back, wounds which his new master already showed displeasure with, were infected, and had the day brought snow, his body would well have melted it from fever. No matter how hard he wished to deny it, he knew that if he did not receive any form of care soon, this master would be his last.

He felt a tugging, more gentle this time, against the ropes binding his wrists, and he broke out of daydreaming to follow his master. Strangely, he seemed… almost _worried_ at Ushiwaka's hesitation, and the traveling went slower.

An hour they traveled, perhaps more, and at least a mile was placed between themselves and the slave market. Suddenly, Ushiwaka could no longer bear to move another step. The shaking that had taken hold of his knees finally brought him down upon them, collapsing upon the ground. He panicked and struggled to raise himself back up, for if his master saw his predicament, it would mean more pain, more blood loss, and more fear.

He expected tugging, harsh words, probably even a lashing right then and there. Instead, careful hands lifted him slightly from the ground, feeling him for possibility of new injuries, then a sigh. It was an oddly female sounding one, for someone known as a "he". Then, suddenly, he was flung up, and when he came crashing down, he landed on soft, white fur laced with crimson markings. His body went rigid with shock as he saw it was a wolf, looking at him with an expression of apology, as if sorry for his treatment right then. He shuddered, fearing that now his life would end, here at the mercy of a wild wolf.

If it was truly the wolf's plan to kill him, it was obviously waiting to get somewhere else first. Maybe to part of its pack, who were also waiting for fresh meat.

It wasn't the most pleasant of thoughts, Ushiwaka decided with a gulp. The wolf was shifting under him now, working him forward a little across its back, just a bit more to the center, finally nudging its head under his arms, tied together by the same rope that tied him to his master only seconds ago. The wolf looked over him once more with surprising concern for a wild animal, before breaking into a gallop.

Needless to say, Ushiwaka, who was already in shock, started to slip backwards off the wolf's back. Despite fear of being eaten, he sincerely did not want to fall off the wolf, and he tried to grip its fur with his bound hands. When this did not work, he tried moving himself up just a bit further, but the jolting as paws flew across the ground and his already present exhaustion prevented him from doing so.

Just as he wondered if the rope around his arms would break apart and cause him to go flying through the air, probably onto some rocky or hard pathway, the wolf's speed slowed into a screeching halt. Wondering what could have caused it to stop so suddenly, he raised his head as far as he dared, breath catching as he saw what it was. It was a white house, no, a manor from its size; at least two stories tall, fenced around with red brick topped by iron painted white. The house's door and shutters were painted a dark forest green, but all the other trimmings had a rich red color. In the front was a white and red stone pathway, leading to the door, and on either side of the path was beautifully green grass. This sea of grass was only interrupted from several flowers popping at intervals from the ground, until larger beds of flowers halted it completely a few feet from the fence. The wolf, who apparently noticed his awe, slipped its head from underneath his arms, letting him slide down gently to the ground. It developed a wolfish grin, before a glow emanated where it stood.

Suddenly, there was no longer a wolf, but a girl- probably around his age, Ushiwaka guessed, but he could not be sure. She had the white hair and crimson markings of the wolf, as well as the ears and black-tipped tail of one! Her emerald eyes sparkled as she saw his expression. "You like the place~?" she asked, gesturing with one arm at the building. "That's where you're going to live. Honestly, if there's anything about this place that screams, 'HARD LABOR', then I shall die laughing."

For the first time, Ushiwaka could now identify who she was. Not only was she the wolf, not only was she the owner of this place… But she was "The Albino" as well.

Unable to take the shock of all the day's events any more, he fell over.


	2. Healing Powers

**AN: This was actually written last night, but I only got to post it today. XD Also, if your name happens to be Doggeh and you are English, this is what I was talking about when I said Ammy had "Magic Soap".**

**This chapter also contains reasons I feared in chapter one would get me chewed out for not being contemporary with Okami events. That's why it's called an AU, folks... Though there's nothing like cell phones or computers beyond anything Waka might make, so. XD It also may be part of the reason this was T rated even though there's nothing outright awful...**

**Ammy is usually motherly in here, considering my normal personality for her. She's usually so... tomboyish whereas here she's pretty darn gentle. XD Except for that one incident you'll see described here... Yeah. I reconcile it by saying Ammy's only motherly when the person is injured or whatever and still rougher around everyone else... and to the person she was motherly with after they recover. XD**

**Also, a little sort of game for you to figure out... Isshaku has not yet come into this story fully, though he shall be another major character in this. However, he does pop up, whether by name or by inference, five times in this chapter. Can you figure out all the references to him? One's a bit of foreshadowing, so don't be bothered if you can't guess that one. Don't say what they are in reviews, though, don't want to spoil anyone else's fun~!**

* * *

When he awoke, he was no longer outside. Instead, he was in a small room, sitting back against a chair, which moved slightly as he raised himself up to look around. There was nothing to indicate, as the girl has said, "Hard labor", not even torture. Definitely not what he had anticipated, though he felt rather relieved. He let himself relax from the rigid position he had just been in, sinking against the soft fabric cushions. Just as suddenly as he leaned against them he shot back up with a cry of pain; his back felt on fire with infection and opened wounds. Turning his head as far as he dared, he sucked in his breath as he surveyed the cushions. They were stained with blood now, _his_ blood, but that was not what worried him so much. He was, rather unfortunately, used to his blood leaving traces against something.

No. He was worried that when his master came in, woman or not, she was going to be considerably angry at him for bloodying up her furniture.

As his luck would have it, she came in right at that very second. Terror sparked through him, causing him to stiffen, and words blurted out he wished he could stop that very second. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to stain the chair, I-"

A hand grasped his shoulder, fingertips brushing against his sensitive back, and he flinched, fearing the worst. Steady emerald eyes gazed into his blue ones, a rather reassuring gaze. "Hush. Calm down. Honestly, this chair has already received its fair share of bloodstains from other slaves rescued before you who needed even basic care before I dared do anything else."

Heart still beating abnormally fast, his panic calmed. If he was to be beaten, it was most certainly not now. Suddenly, the wolf girl's tail swished, and as if by magic, the ropes binding his wrists fell off. He glanced down at the severed ropes before looking back at her. Reassuring hand still pressed on his shoulder, she grinned. "The name's Amaterasu, if you want to know~ Most people just call me Ammy, though… I kinda prefer that, too."

He nodded stiffly. He didn't dare say anything himself, for fear that if he did he'd say something wrong. Besides, his earlier outburst reminded him how hoarse and dry his throat felt, and how much he didn't really want to say anything… "And your name is?"

He jerked back to reality, and once again he feared what to do next. He didn't want to speak, but if he didn't say anything, Amaterasu would probably get angry at him. "M-my name's Ushiwaka…" he mumbled finally. "B-but you can call me whatever you want!" he added hastily, voice cracking, as soon as he said this, in case maybe she didn't like that name. Ammy stared blankly at him. "Why would I call you something else…?" she asked, confused, and Ushiwaka nearly began to explain to her that most slave owners never called their slaves by their actual names when she cut him off. "Never mind. Oh! I almost forgot! Dangit, you must be parched!"

She suddenly rushed from the room, leaving Ushiwaka very confused and certainly worried. What had she gone to get? He needn't have worried, for she came back in a minute with a glass. "Isshaku got it for me already… What would I do without him…" she muttered absently before turning back to Ushiwaka. "Here, drink this, but not too quickly. We want you to have fluids in you, not make your stomach so upset you lose more."

Ammy walked over to him, still holding the glass. Wrapping an arm behind his neck for support, she pressed the glass against his lips. It was filled almost to the brim with water, and, partly in shock and partly because they were the fluids he was so desperately in need of, Ushiwaka opened his mouth. Water flowed in, a welcome feeling against the harsh dryness of his mouth. A moment passed, then another, as he tried to hold the liquid in as long as possible, then he swallowed. This process continued for a minute, then two, on to ten before he was able to sip the last drops of water from the glass. Even then, he was still thirsty, though admittedly he did not feel so dry that his throat would split open if he tried to speak much more. His body was still racked with fever, and his stomach protested at the onslaught of so much water but yet no food.

The gentle hands which had held him and made sure he was rehydrated left him suddenly, and blue eyes that had closed so briefly in those somehow relaxing minutes flew open again. Struggling to keep them from blurring and shutting again, he was not prepared to be suddenly lifted from the chair and thrown upwards like that. He gave a strangled cry as he flew, however briefly, into the air before landing safely down on Ammy's shoulder. She immediately grabbed hold of him, one hand against the back of his neck (he let out an involuntary shudder upon feeling it), and another stretched as far down as it dared, trying not to either touch his back or reach too far down at the risk of his greater discomfort. His breathing quickened yet again; where did she plan on taking him _now?_ Ammy hurried out of the room, still carrying him, turning a corner and entering the first door to the right. There, she deposited him somewhat unceremoniously on the floor.

Ushiwaka took a glance around the room they were now in. It was a bathroom, complete with a rather large tub and a cherry-wood cabinet with a white counter and sink to top it. There were at least two small emerald rugs inside the room, one before the tub, and the other, upon which he now sat, just in front of the sink. The tub was filled to the brim with water, upon which sat layers of frothy bubbles it would be impossible, Ushiwaka thought, to see beneath them. The mirror over the sink had started to grow misty with the heat emanating from the water. A clean, fluffy, and presumably soft white towel was laid out on the sink, waiting to be put into service, and a pair of purple pants and a white ribbon, probably to be used as a belt, lay folded on the other side.

He gave Amaterasu a look bordering between confusion and panic, and probably verging on the latter. If she was going to make him do something like draw a bath, why was there already water in the tub? "Okay, I'm going to go outside a second, while you get ready and get into the tub, alright?"

His expression must have changed to horrified, for she continued, rubbing a hand against her forehead. "Honestly, I am not so perverted that I would watch you strip, and with all the bubbles in the tub, I can't see a _thing_. Stop worrying and get in."

With that, she turned about and hastily exited, door closing swiftly behind her. Ushiwaka could not help but thank her for the shreds of pride she tried to leave him with. Some of his previous masters had not been so kind… Gulping and shaking his head to clear it, he got into the tub, casting aside the… the _rags_ that had been sewn together to form some sort of rough trousers. He relaxed, if just a tiny bit, at the warmth around him, how comfortable he was, despite the twangs of pain in his back from wounds protesting at contact with, of all things, soap. He heard Ammy speaking to someone outside, but if they replied and what it was she said, he did not know. The next second, the door opened, and Ammy walked in, tail swishing behind her.

Ushiwaka suddenly felt very self-conscious and very uncomfortable. Despite his back having been bare this entire time, he suddenly felt ashamed of how bloodied it looked, how scarred. He also feared what would happen now, somehow feeling especially vulnerable at the moment.

Yet again, he discovered that day, he needn't have worried. Amaterasu immediately busied herself, brushing away all strands of his golden hair from his back. She proceeded to place one hand across his chest, holding securely to prevent him from jerking suddenly as he tried to steadily move away from contact. Then, and this was what Ushiwaka anticipated least, she grabbed a bar of black soap and began rubbing it methodically against his back.

He expected pain, pain from soap which should have stung his already infected wounds, but there was not. There was only warmth, a trickling sensation, and then… relief. A feeling that somehow, he did not feel as sore and bruised as before. Ammy smirked knowingly, before progressing to his chest and arms. Then, she gave him the soap bar, biding him to finish washing himself off while she went to check on something. As he washed, he basked in the sudden sense of cleanliness that came to him, a feeling which he had lacked for oh so long. Ushiwaka thought he heard Ammy's voice again, followed by another voice, this time a male. He strained to listen, fearing that perhaps Ammy wasn't the leader of the household and it was another who held charge of the whip- but no. The voice sounded young, just about his age, and had an undertone of respect that led him to believe it wasn't a figure with more authority than Amaterasu- another slave?

She came back in, looking as if to suppress a huff of annoyance before continuing on to Ushiwaka's hair. His hair was another thing that worried him. Though it was coated with dirt and grease, it was, if taken care of, beautiful, long, silky, and smooth. It had been something long coveted by slave owners, but was now dull in comparison to when he first became a slave. Keeping it well kept, he remembered, involved proper shampooing, conditioning, brushing, and drying- at most, he'd only received shampoo and a combing.

He ended up wondering how many times he could be proven wrong in one night.

Not only was his hair shampooed, it was shampooed three times, each time bringing Ammy complaining about how horribly greasy it was and why one washing wasn't enough. Then, as if to again crush any worry, conditioner was applied, rubbed in, and washed out.

He glanced around him. The soap bubbles from the beginning still covered the view of anything inside the tub.

Looking completely satisfied, Ammy got up, staggering a little from the half hour spent on her knees washing his hair alone, and smiled. "Alright, then, I'll let you get your pants on, then I'll come back and bandage you up… Hopefully Isshaku or Issun can find you a shirt by then…"

She trailed off and exited, leaving Ushiwaka alone in the room. He clambered out of the tub, settling onto the fluffy towel she had conveniently spread out for him before leaving. It truly was as soft as it appeared, and he spent a few second just snuggled onto it before actually attempting to dry himself off, ever careful not to stain it with blood while trying to pat his back dry. He pulled on the pants, which were apparently fluffy on the inside and very soft, but also a bit big for him around the waist. He hurriedly tied them off with the ribbon, lest they fell further down, turning about and happening to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

He hastily pushed himself onto the counter, turning around and trying to comprehend what he saw. It was impossible, he told himself, wasn't it? He spared one glance at the door, worried Ammy might be mad he decided to take a peek at his back for himself or that if he glanced now, some sort of spell might be broken.

Then he turned back. He was right. The scars across his back had ceased to exist, the fresher, still opened wounds had scabbed over, and the ones that had previously been infected burned less, looking like ordinary, fresh cuts, not swollen or bearing any other indicators of being infected. He heard footsteps outside the door again and hastily pushed himself off and back onto the ground.

Once again, it was Amaterasu. This time, she bore with her some sort of pink thing draped over her one arm. She smiled at him, placing the thing on the counter, before sitting behind him. He willed every fiber of his being not to turn around and look at her, making sure she was not planning to harm him. A hand ran over his back, and he felt her beaming smile increase. "You've actually healed better than expected," she told him suddenly. His gaze turned to meet hers. "Eh?"

"That soap had healing powers. Didn't you notice your back wasn't as sore?" Ushiwaka refrained from commenting on this. "However, they only heal in accordance with however willing the person is to accept their powers. You struggled, shook under my gaze, panicked easily. I expected it wouldn't do much for you…"

His eyes widened. She had expected him to be almost like a lost cause… "H-has that even happened before?"

"Once."

She made no further comment, merely taking out the bandages and wrapping them tightly enough, not so tight they'd cut off circulation but not loosely either, around his body. She combed out his hair, brushed it again, and blew off all the dampness, not forcing him to get up in all that time. He hadn't realized, but he was still aching, still exhausted, and he truly wanted to sleep at that moment… anywhere, in all truth, would be fine. Finally, Ammy handed him the pink object from earlier. It was a shirt. "I know it's pink, and it's got those pom-poms on the front of it, but it's soft, and it's the first thing the Poncles found that looked like it'd fit you," she explained.

For Ushiwaka, who had not experienced the warmth and protection of a shirt since becoming a slave, it was pure bliss.


	3. A Promise

**AN: Here we are, the long awaited for chapter three! Also titled, somewhat mockingly, "It's a _BED_~!8D"**

**...Just so you know, the title for this fanfiction had nothing to do with Ammy's promise at the end of this chapter. In fact, I did not even add that bit until I was writing this. The title (and the line itself) comes from the song "I Know I'm A Wolf" which I find simply AMAZING and which will probably share the title of a later chapter. **

**Issun is introduced formally in this, Ammy's sometimes violent nature (LOL) is showcased, and Ushiwaka gets called "Waka", which is what's going to stick with everyone but a select few. Oh, Issun, must you nickname everyone? XD No flashbacks on how he came to live with Ammy, though... Why, you may ask? Well, that story shall come later. ****In addition to the Story That Will Come Later, there is another mention to That One Slave, the one Ammy seems to regret/not want to think about. Are they related? ...I know, but I'm not telling.**

**There was a bit more where Waka and Ammy raced a bit, but when I sketched out a floorplan for where they were living, it made no sense, so I scrapped the idea and wrote it as it is now. I hope you enjoy it, because this chapter was certainly one I had fun on~**

* * *

Amaterasu sat with him for a while as he tried to get used to the returning comfort of being covered again. She only exited once, returning moments later with light grayish blue socks and red, stilt-like shoes. Ushiwaka wasted no time in putting these on; he knew all too well the discomfort of cold feet and of having legs so short it was hard to keep up with others! Then, seeming to get somewhat impatient, she stood up and, grasping him under the arms, pulled him up after her. He wavered for a while on unsteady and weary feet, taking only a few seconds to adjust to the stilt-like shoes. Despite his overall weakness, his balance was still rather good compared to that of most people.

Smiling as if now fully satisfied, Ammy grabbed his hand. "Come on then, are you going to stay in here all day or what?" she jested, emerald eyes twinkling. He gulped, worried that he had taken too long and she was now mad at him. He quavered, just slightly; this had been the best treatment as a slave he ever had, and he did not want it to end abruptly. Taking a step, he followed after her gentle tugging, stepping carefully to avoid tripping over his own feet. His gaze fixed on them, for even though he trusted his sense of balance, in his current state, he could not be completely sure.

They turned right and came to a halt, and Ushiwaka glanced up. They were just outside a door now, but they were not alone. There was another boy there, probably in his teenage years though slightly short for his age. His hair was black and long enough to be tied back into a ponytail, though his hair was mostly covered by a hat resembling a beetle. His shirt was purple and sleeveless, though bandages were wrapped around his wrists as if to make up for this. He wore a green cape and a serious expression, leaf green eyes narrowed… at Ushiwaka. The glare made him gulp, trying to push himself behind Ammy for safety. Ammy, however, seemed completely comfortable with the other teen. "Hello, Issun~! This is Ushiwaka!"

Issun snorted, head turning to the side, and his expression seemed no longer a furious glare, but an unhappy pout. "Why'd ya have to rescue this guy, Ammy?" he complained, voice pitching in a slight wail. "He looks half-baked… I don't trust him…"

Ushiwaka decided the floor suddenly looked rather unusually interesting. His legs shook, his body shook, his hand long since pulled out of Ammy's. He had only just arrived and he was already distrusted. What's more was that this Issun seemed to be rather highly valued in Ammy's opinion, and if he distrusted Ushiwaka… What if Ammy decided Issun was right and that he was disreputable? He couldn't be sent back, he just couldn't bear to go back to the filth and rags of slavery… It was true, here he was still a slave, but at least he was clean, fully clothed, and hydrated!

Despite the already apparent closeness of the two, Amaterasu merely laughed Issun's comment off. "Ha! Half-baked! That's rich! You don't know anything about him yet and you hate him? That's a bit judgmental even for you, my little friend!"

The "little" comment seemed to set Issun off. "I'm not _that _tiny!" he whined, bouncing up and down, angry red smoke clouds almost literally pouring off him in his fit. This only caused Ammy to laugh more. "Honestly, you're only seeing him just now, plus that glance you saw when I carried him in earlier… You don't know if he's really as half-baked as you say."

Ushiwaka's gaze whipped back up from the floor. Why… why, he wondered to himself, would Ammy be the one who bothered to carry him inside? Though she certainly seemed capable of carrying someone, and he knew from experience that she certainly could carry him, if no one else, he didn't understand why she would be responsible for carrying him in herself. Why not send Isshaku, Issun, one of her slaves to do the job for her? No other master would do so much by themselves.

Issun ignored Ammy, deciding instead to put his hand to his chin, as if thinking. "Hmm… Ushiwaka… A bit long if you ask me… Should I call him Waka or Ushi? Ah, Waka, it sounds more half-baked to me."

Before him, Ammy twitched. "Issun… Make one more statement to the effect of Ushiwaka being half-baked and…"

Issun's arms crossed in front of him, and his next statement made Ushiwaka realize that if he was a slave as well, he certainly had a sharp tongue and the nerves to use it. "Half-baked, ya furball."

The next few seconds were a blur. Ammy's hand shot forward, landing on Issun's beetle hat with considerable force for it being a single-handed blow. The boy yelped, jumping a bit at the blow and shouting about Ammy being excessively violent. And suddenly, Ushiwaka, watching intensely all the while, fell to his knees, a squeak emanating from him. That was it. He was doomed. If he truly did offend Ammy, it was considerably worse than calling someone else half-baked, and any punishment he received would surely be worse, probably even a lash across the back to replace the ones previously healed and tear into his newly earned shirt.

Amaterasu bent down immediately, catching him before he fell flat out, whimpering and crying, a shout going out, crying, "Darnit, Issun, he's going into shock again! Why'd you have to be so annoying I smacked your hat-?"

"I didn't know he'd react like this, furball! You just said you're the only one who'd know what makes him tick!"

"Well, why couldn't you-!"

"Ammy, I don't think you're helping him."

Indeed, Ushiwaka was still shaking, desperately wanting to know if it would be wrong and punishable to try and curl up around Amaterasu, because even if she could hurt him, she was still warm and comforting. Ammy stayed a second, mouth opening and closing at Issun, before reluctantly conceding. "All right, Issun. You win, this time," she muttered, ears tilting back and tone condescending, showing exactly how much she hated to admit he had a valid point. A strong hand grasped Ushiwaka's arm, and he was suddenly heaved to his feet. "Sorry about that… Issun was just pushing all my buttons at once and I lost my temper there a second… he has the almost unique ability to do that…" she explained, eyebrow quirking as she glanced back towards the other teen. He bowed, sweeping his beetle hat off at the same time. "Just part of the wonderful services I offer, Ammy~"

The wolf girl rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, we get it. Give him some space, okay? He's the new kid, remember, and he's still somewhat feverous. He doesn't need to be overwhelmed any more than he has been today."

Issun shook his head. "Fine, I can tell when I'm not appreciated here," he said, hand flying to his head in an expression of exaggerated tragedy but playful tone and lingering smirk betraying him. "Goodbye!"

With that, he literally bounced over to a door a bit further down on the right. "But come on, you really are exhausted, you probably want nothing other than to get some rest, am I right?"

Ushiwaka nodded weakly. He would be ready to sleep anywhere she had a place for him, ready to flop down upon any patch of floor she had spared for him. Anything she gave him would be fine…

Ammy's tail waved slowly back and forth. "I think you'll like it in here…" she murmured, putting a hand to a door to the left. It creaked open, just slightly, and he waited, patiently, for whatever would be beyond it.

* * *

Ammy loved this moment. It was a moment when she could really see the effects of her hard work and patience. The moment when any newly acquired resident realized that the truly were safe, that the ravages of slavery could never again harm them here.

For she knew what it was clear Ushiwaka had not yet come to understand. The reason she traversed the deep, dark, dungeon-like realms of the slave market, desperate enough to go disguised under the guise of "the Albino", as she was known, was not to gain slaves to work for her. She had no desire to force another being to work for her; indeed, she preferred to do everything herself. She needed to feel that there was nothing she couldn't do… well, except be a normal, traditional woman.

The reason she penetrated the depths of the black market was to rescue those who needed her assistance and aid the most. Those like him, afflicted with fever and beatings, riddled with fear, even those who had not experienced the complete harshness of slavery but who were too young to deserve living so poorly.

Despite the fact that Ushiwaka was clean, watered, and bandaged up, he still believed that any second, she might get so fed up with him she'd give him exactly the same treatment he received as a slave. However, what would come next might remind him that she was no ordinary "slave owner"… indeed, none of the others that she had bought did she consider 'slaves'. The price she paid to gain them from the traders was the price paid for their freedom.

Ushiwaka stepped into the room, the "holding room", she called it. Ammy had named it that because everyone she had ever bought except Kurow and Issun had stayed in that room at least one full night. It was there that she could periodically check them throughout the night, making sure that they were not suffering from anything, whether nightmares, sickness, hunger, or dehydration. And in truth, usually they were afflicted in some sort of manner, especially on the first night there.

"This is where you'll be staying, at least for the night~" she announced cheerfully. Her tail, snow white but tipped with its black ink, waved vigorously, waiting to know what he thought of the room. Ushiwaka made no comment or reply, gazing about with widened eyes. Slowly, he made his way over towards the opposite corner of the room, the corner where the bed was. Did he not like it? "It's really the smallest bedroom, and it's not much… It's the only one left anyway, so you can keep it, we can redecorate it any way you want-"

Her train of conversation halted as her eyes, closed temporarily while trying to backtrack on her own words, opened. Ushiwaka stood, hands running along the comforter of the bed, and… shaking. No, he wasn't shaking all over, it was just his shoulders, but why would they…? The answer dawned on her rather suddenly, causing her own eyes to widen. _He was crying._

She rushed over, footsteps taking the few brief steps across the room before she reached his side. "Ushiwaka…?" she murmured, resting her hand on his trembling shoulder. He stood a second, appearing to reject every urge he had in him to continue his course of action. Then, without warning, he gave a low moan and wrapped his arms around her, head pushing into the crook of her neck. Ammy couldn't help but stiffen in shock; Ushiwaka's response was so sudden, so… _unexpected_, after how much he had tried to prevent himself from falling onto her bad side.

"I-it's just- I- I n-never h-had a b-bed before, a-and…" he broke off, sobbing and clinging to her all the more. Recovering from her initial shock, she wrapped her other arm across his back, the other moving behind his neck. He shuddered as her hand rubbed against the back of his neck, then lay still. "I-I've n-never received th-this m-much kindness e-ever before! N-not water, n-not bath, a-and de-definitely n-not my own b-bed!"

Rocking him back and forth to calm him, Ammy couldn't help but wonder why he would get so upset that he was crying about his sudden wonderful treatment… In all her history, only one person had reacted this way under _her_ care… She pushed this thought from her mind. That was years ago; she had to focus now on Ushiwaka, who was clearly distraught. "If you didn't have your own bed, then, what _did_ you have?" she asked, worried. Had something happened to him she was unaware of?

Ushiwaka trembled slightly at the question, at all the memories that must certainly be flooding into his head. "R-rags, usually… st-stone o-or wood, i-if I was u-unlucky, c-carpeting a-at best…" he stuttered out finally, another choked sob emanating from him. He burrowed deeper into the fabric of her shirt, somehow seeming to find comfort in how warm she was. Ammy nodded slowly, a hand raising and running through his golden hair. "…I see…" she said finally, still rocking him, still trying to calm him. "Do not be afraid of this, anymore, Ushiwaka… Do not fear the return of the whiplash, the beatings… I cannot promise you everything, but there is one promise that I can keep, that I will do everything in my power not to break. No matter what happens, I'm telling you, you'll be safe with me…"

* * *

**AN: I love how there are two basic reactions in the bed scene. There's Ammy, who's like "Oh goodness NO he's crying what do I do what do I do?" and Waka, who's like "It's a BED how-! What did I do to deserve this sudden kindness?" *cries* ...Um yeah.**


	4. Blankets are for Kids

**AN: Just so you know I find it ironic that Waka needs something to remind him of Ammy. _TELL ME AGAIN, WAS IT LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT~?_ /bricked AHEM so. Also YAY Isshaku is finally introduced properly in this, I've been waiting for him to finally pop in...**

**Yes, Ammy totally felt the need to forcefeed Waka because his mouth was open. Yes, she did have the need to reference the Trix comcercials. Ammy is totally immature like that. /bricked**

* * *

When he was finally able to stop sobbing onto Ammy's shoulder, doubtlessly leaving it thoroughly soaked, Ushiwaka backed off of her. She had likely grown tired of his crying, only staying because there was literally no other choice with his arms wrapped as tightly as they were around her. He stood, head downward, attempting to make himself as small as he possibly could. A long silence settled across the room, neither he nor the wolf girl knowing what to say. Finally, Ammy seemed to settle on something. "You can get into bed, you know."

He moved as if electrically charged, burrowing under the covers, wrapping them around himself until he reached the right degree of "comfortable". His back protested in a twang of pain when he tried to lay on it, so he flipped over, lying on his stomach instead. His head ducked under the covers before popping back out again, raising his blue eyes to stare at Amaterasu. She was chuckling at how he seemed to need to be so wrapped up in his sheets like he was. "I'll be back in a minute with some food," she said with a smirk before exiting the room.

Ushiwaka flipped onto his back again, pushing himself up against the pillows until he was in a sitting position. His breathing quickened as he looked around. It was as if he were caught between choosing the lesser of the two evils. If Ammy were around him, there was always the chance he'd offend her and she'd retaliate, yet she gave him warmth, comfort, moreso than even the warm water, the new shirt, anything so far. But if she were out of the room, while he could not offend her, what might she be getting? And despite however much he wished to deny it, he missed her warmth, her just being nearby so he could grab hold of her and use her as a security blanket, seeing as she did not seem to mind this much.

Minutes passed, seeming to stretch into hours, yet he refused to return to the warmth of the covers to sleep, lest he miss Ammy returning and she decide not to feed him, or in case he woke up from some sort of dreaming illusion. Perhaps if he tried to sleep, he would wake back up in the slave market, still bound, still bleeding…

A gentle shaking, a hand passing through the forelocks of his hair. His eyes flew open, eyes unaware he had even closed. Ammy stood in front of him, carrying a bowl and a spoon, though he had not heard he come in. A gentle smile tugged at her lips, and she seemed to be reminiscing for a moment. Her mindset all too quickly returned to the present as she saw him awake. "You must really be tired," she stated softly, hand still running through his hair. "I'm kinda surprised you didn't fall asleep sooner, to tell the truth."

He opened his mouth to try and speak, but it had gone dry again. A spoonful of… something, something that certainly tasted delicious after such a long time of nothing, was crammed into his mouth while it was open, Ammy smirking. She certainly appeared to be an opportunist…

"Rice with soup mixed in," she stated, the smirk still on her face. "It's never upset anyone's stomach so far, and it's got enough in it to start returning the necessary nutrition to you."

Ushiwaka nodding, spoon still stuck in his mouth. He couldn't have cared less about what it was, as long as it would fill the aching in his stomach, the feeling that he'd heave its negligible contents at any second. The feeding process continued much the same, though Ushiwaka was accepting the food willingly now without having the food thrust upon him in an opportunistic moment. After a while, Ammy deemed that he had eaten enough food and that any more would make him lose what he nutrition had only just gained. She poured a mouthful of water down his throat, causing him to cough and sputter for a few minutes afterwards while she apologized profusely, and, with a final smile and a cheerful "Sweet dreams~" she left.

"…" Ushiwaka snuggled back under the sheets, now feeling a bit warm and uncomfortable with sweat. He tossed and turned, trying to lie on his left only to discover it was more comfortable if he was facing the door while trying to sleep. Suddenly, all his feelings of exhaustion and desire to sleep left him, and he pushed himself from the bed, restless. He knew what it was he needed, what he missed, and he suppressed a groan at the thought of it. He needed something warm, soft… Something to remind him of Ammy.

He didn't understand why he was this attached to her. After all, he was merely her slave, to become this attached in so short a time could not be good. When he was better, he'd probably be sent to work… But would that be a bad thing, after all she had done for him? He shook his head. He did not understand all these sudden thoughts flowing into his head.

Silently, lest Ammy hear him and wonder why he should be moving about when he was supposed to be sleeping, he maneuvered himself to in front of the dresser he had noticed when he came in. It was plain brown wood, four-drawer, and the top was covered with a white cloth. Trying to keep quiet as possible, he opened the top drawer.

Inside, to his surprise, he found medicines, medicines for both children and adults, all kinds. Fever and pain relief, cough, runny and stuffy nose, congestion, even a jar of a wonderful smelling substance for aching muscles and coughs, all were jumbled together. There were also thermometers and boxes of thermometer covers, a heating pad, a hot water bottle, and multiple flashlights. He closed the drawer, flinching at every little squeak it made. He did not trust to sleep with a heating pad, and to fill the hot water bottle would require exiting the room and perhaps drawing Ammy's suspicion.

The next drawer had various t-shirts, all plain and white, but in varying sizes from that of an adult to that of a child. He pulled one out to use for himself; trying to push out any worry by telling himself that Ammy had clearly intended these for anyone who was to sleep in that room and it was safe to use one.

The third drawer contained spare white sheets, to be used if one particular pair needed to be laundered. Shutting that drawer, he continued on, opening the last, hoping beyond all hope for something to use for comfort.

The final drawer contained various blankets, most fit for a kid and two for adults. He pulled out a smaller blanket, wrapping it until it formed a sort of roll. Closing the drawer carefully, he retreated back into the bed and under the covers, drawing the blanket-plush close and snuggling against it.

His eyes somehow were able to close, and though it did not have the same comfort of Ammy, it was, nevertheless, able to send him off, at last, into sleep.

* * *

When he awoke, the blanket no longer lay beside him. Instead, tucked under the crook of his arm, was a stuffed toy. It was white, fluffy, oh so soft and warm… and it looked suspiciously similar to Ammy. Rubbing his eyes and trying to figure out what had happened, he finally noticed a note placed on the top of the dresser. His delicate fingers snatched it, glancing over the message written before him.

"_Silly Ushiwaka, Blankets are for kids! 8D"_

For the first time ever, he felt a little irked at Amaterasu.

* * *

After changing back into his shirt and putting on the stilts, he padded softly downstairs. He was, rather luckily, able to keep silent… If Ammy found him to be awake, what would she do then? Trying to keep quiet as possible, he edged to the bottom of the stairs and glanced around. His path had taken him near to what must be the family room, for Ammy was sitting around with several others, including (to his disappointment) Issun. The way she was able to talk and joke to them freely seemed to indicate they were not slaves, and he wondered briefly if rumors were true that they had all died. He wondered if he even believed they truly did die, or if these were others, ones she rescued…

Two clearly were not, however. Both bore similar markings to Ammy, both on their faces and upon their clothes. One, like Ammy, was almost all white; the other, all black. Could they be related to her? Perhaps, but right now was not the time for him to find out. Despite the general friendly air emanating from the room, he did not want to face Issun again that day… Nor did he particularly want company at that moment.

In fact, he wanted to be alone.

He ducked from the stairway into a hall just beside it, peering out to see if anyone had noticed him. They had not, or if they had, they made no sign of it. He backed along the hallway, always trying to make sure no one saw him, until he finally reached the end, back bumping against it. He flinched, before turning around to see it was a door. He glanced back towards the family room, wondering if he should ask Ammy's permission before heading out the door… But by now, he decided it didn't matter. If he did, he'd have to face everyone seated out there, a task he simply wasn't prepared for.

He opened the door and ducked quickly outside.

As it happened, it could not have offered an escape route, as the yard before him was enclosed in a brick wall just higher than him and topped with white iron, similar to the front. It was, however, rather beautiful, filled with trees and flowers, all in bloom despite the season being wrong for such blooming. The scent of cherry and many others wafted around Ushiwaka, all very pleasant. He breathed it all in, a slight smile developing across his face as his eyes closed.

When he reopened them, he realized he was not alone.

Another figure sat under a cherry tree, a brown hat set beside him with spreading antlers perched on top. It reminded Ushiwaka of the hat worn by Issun, but while Issun was dominated by green, this figure seemed covered in autumnal colors- brown shirt, brown pants, and brilliant golden amber eyes. The only thing out of place was the scarf he wore wrapped around her neck, long and blue. His hair was black and long, like Issun's, but unlike Issun, his was free, and part of his hair seemed to refuse any attempt to tame it by drifting up away from the rest. Next to him sat a bottle of black ink, a paintbrush twirled in his hand, ready to move along the paper perched on his lap. He was so caught up in his artistry that he appeared oblivious to the new presence that had appeared beside him. Curious as to what he was drawing, Ushiwaka tried to look.

As if a shock had ran through his body, the other figure- also a teenager – moved the paintbrush, ink, and portrait out of Ushiwaka's point of vision, letting out a yell, a hand flying up and nearly hitting Ushiwaka's face. "_NEVER, EVER, _DO THAT TO ME!" he yelled, looking furious. Ushiwaka stumbled back, curling up on himself. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt; I should have spoken up sooner-!"

His companion stared at him, head turning just slightly, brow furrowing and mouth slacking. Some sort of recognition seemed to spark in his brain, and he spoke up again. "No, no, don't worry about it. I should've remembered, you're the new guy; you're not up to be yelled at… But no one, _no one_, not even Ammy sees my works in progress."

His tone had an air of finality to it, and he turned back to his lap, seeming to decide he should turn back to his art- only to remember he had stashed it away. He frowned, then sighed, and finally seemed to decide Ushiwaka was worthy of conversation. "Name's Isshaku, by the way."

Ushiwaka remembered the name. "Ammy mentioned you several times…"

Isshaku chuckled. "Not surprised there, she's always bringing me up… I must be the first person anyone knows here, and it's just because Ammy always mentions me." He glanced up towards Ushiwaka now. "I already know who _you_ are, though. Your name's Ushiwaka, right?"

Ushiwaka nodded weakly. Isshaku smiled. "You're lucky. Ammy seems to have taken an immediate liking to you… She's already introduced you to everyone, just by word of mouth." His tone took a nosedive towards bitter, though he still looked relatively happy. "She's… wonderful…" Ushiwaka admitted. "I've… I've never had a… a _master_ who… who made sure I had water, and clean clothes, and a bath, and food, and a bed, and-"

His stream of words was cut short. "_Master?_" Isshaku repeated, startled. "You- you didn't realize yet-?" And then, without warning, he crumpled, laughing his head off. Ushiwaka leaned away, hoping he had said nothing wrong. "Do you mean that she isn't the… the master?" he asked, trembling slightly. Isshaku finally seemed to recover from laughing. "You…. You seriously thought… She rescued you, did everything for you… To her, you're not a slave. You don't have to worry she'll whip you if you disobey her, anything like that- heck, you could even leave now, if you want."

Ushiwaka stared at Isshaku in shock. "But- if you could leave at any time, why do you stay?" he asked, confused. Isshaku stared at him for a while. "…Don't you feel it? That desire to do… to do something, ANYTHING for her, because she helped you so much?"

Ushiwaka stayed silent a moment, then nodded. That feeling… he would do anything for Amaterasu, no matter what. He didn't understand; only hours before he had been afraid of doing any task he was told to perform. Now, he just wanted to do something, something that would repay the debt of everything Ammy had done for him. Isshaku smirked. "Knew it," he said simply, leaning back against the tree, eyes closing. Ushiwaka sat there beside him a while. "You talk of her so highly… Why? How did you meet her?"

Isshaku started, whipping around to meet Ushiwaka's eye. "You do not need to know that," he growled, looking annoyed for the first time ever. "I- I didn't know- I-"

But Isshaku was already getting up. Whatever Ushiwaka had said, it apparently was not good, for it seemed to set off some sort of mental trigger in the other's head. Ushiwaka's curiosity only grew as he observed Isshaku's retreating back…

* * *

Isshaku knew he shouldn't have left the new guy so quickly. It must've seemed very rude of him, and doubtlessly made Ushiwaka fear what could happen next. Yet, he still couldn't bear to tell anyone the circumstances under which he had arrived here…

_You don't know how lucky you are, how much of a liking she's taken to you already._

With that thought, memories long stored away washed over him again, memories he dearly wished he could forget.

* * *

**AN: Next chapter is Isshaku flachback.**

**And if anyone realized it took three chapters for Waka to recover.**

**Isshaku's going to be a monster.**

**This could take a while.**


	5. I Know I'm a Wolf

**AN: Here we have it! The long awaited for... ISSHAKU CHAPTER! ...Or is it?**

**It's actually half of the flashback. Despite being condensed significantly (It took Ushiwaka two chapters to get a bath), I still felt that if I typed up the whole chapter and posted it, it would be way too long. This already took the normal chapter standard of four pages; that's long enough for me. Besides, waiting to write up the whole thing means you readers would have to wait longer for it to be finished.**

**Also, no Isshaku, Ammy is not "gayer". Thank you Word, for putting THAT image in my mind... More author's notes at chapter's end; There are things I want to explain but refuse to spoil you here, so~**

**By the way, listen to "I Know I'm a Wolf" sometime. That song, besides giving this story a title, also was a very firm inspiration for the Isshaku flashbacks.**

* * *

It was the bleakest, worst kept section of the town. In truth, no one truly cared about this section enough to repair it and waste the money lining their pockets. In the midst of this area, there stood the part no respectable citizen dared be caught entering.

It was the slave market.

Inside this despicable and filth-ridden area, there was a stall. The owner seemed rather prosperous, or at least well enough to keep his supply of slaves well-stocked. There, arms bound behind back, was one particular slave. His hair was black and greasy due to the surrounding filth and lack of bathing. His back, like every other slave located in the market, was scarred and bloodied from beatings, both by previous masters and by the slave dealers. His eyes, once full of light and life, and which must certainly have been a beautiful golden-amber color, had dulled to brown, dark and deadened. His gaze pointed downwards, and he seemed resigned to the fate before him. His name was Isshaku.

He was also being gazed at by a figure cloaked in blackness, not too far oft.

No slave dealer knew who this was; this was the first time they had ever seen someone like him. Underneath the hood covering his face, a fringe of white hair stood out. It wasn't natural, they whispered behind his back. How could his hair be so pure white when he walked in ways of such darkness?

Whatever his motives, he now moved close enough to converse with the slave dealer owning this particular stall. "So, tell me sir… You wouldn't happen to hold any slaves perfect for hard labor under rather… harsh conditions, would you?"

Isshaku, who had noticed the staring and was rather disconcerted by it, gave a mental sigh of relief. There was no way he could be classified as worthy for "hard labor", was there? But it was not for his fate that he worried.

It was for his brother's.

Issun sat next to him, conditions rather similar, yet his back, especially compared to Isshaku's, was relatively unscarred. It wasn't merely by good graces, though. In all actuality, Issun had a rather unfortunate tendency to get on the wrong side of any master, either by tongue or by his sheer ability to annoy others.

Isshaku could not let his brother get hurt. He had promised their dying parents, if anything bad happened, he would make sure Issun would not be harmed. When the kidnappers to force them into slavery came, he had done everything in his power to spare Issun, get him away… He had failed, failed oh so miserably. Despite this, every time he caught a master about to give Issun a beating, he would leap in front; beg them to use him to vent their anger on, not his brother. Only the hardest of masters would refuse; they did not care which slave they beat, as long as their anger was vented. Let him serve as an example.

Therefore, when he felt the dealer tug his own rope, jerking him to his feet, he was shocked, refusing to let his legs straighten for a moment.

"Oh, I've got two, they're perfect for any beatings you put 'em though, and the best at hard labor," the dealer jested, holding Isshaku so high his feet left the ground. At fifteen, he was still less than five feet tall, blaming lack of nutrition for lack of growth. _Two?_ he thought, panicking, as he looked to see the figure in the dealer's other hand. It was Issun, who swung back and forth, green eyes wide. _Please, no…_ Isshaku pleaded, hoping something, _anything_, would show the potential customer this was all a horrid joke. However, under the soot black hood, a grin spread across the man's face. "I'll take them."

Even the trader was shocked. "I… what?" he asked, still swinging the boys in his grip. The other man snarled. "I said I'd take them. Really, I have enough money to spend to pay for the both of them."

As if to prove this, a bag of money landed at the dealer's feet, and he dropped the brothers to check the sum. _No! I can't let this happen!_ Isshaku thought, panicking, and suddenly, without any warning at all, he leapt forward, blocking off the space between the man and Issun, eyes sparking with a yet undead fire. "No! Take me, just take me instead! You can do whatever you want, just don't hurt my brother-!"

A rough hand grasped his shoulder, pulling him back so roughly his body collapsed on the floor. "I- I am so sorry about that, he's usually much better than this, I can reprimand him for you-!"

Isshaku shuddered. Reprimanding meant a whipping, and his back was too scarred to deal with another. Too much of his skin had already been flayed, and never had his wounds been treated. He felt ill, like any second he'd collapse, but he would not let his brother die because he failed to protect him from harm!

"Don't bother," his new master said with a snort. "He has a… tenacity about him that I like… It would not do well to break it completely." With the end of what he had to say, he smirked, stretching out a hand to run along Isshaku's shoulder. The muscles spasmed in fear, and the hand drew back, only to grab the rope offered it by the slave trader. "Thank you for your business~" the trader called after them, and Isshaku knew he had obtained a great profit for them both.

Their path led to the slave market's edge, opening up into a wide field. Patches of snow laid about, reminding him of how frigid the air was, especially without any protect from the gusting winds. He wondered briefly how far he was to be expected to trek towards his new master's home; how far away it must be. Would Issun be able to make it all that way? Isshaku was not worried if he failed; he would take any punishment for his failings. He just hoped his brother would not be harmed…

As if in answer to his prayers, the man swooped up Issun and placed the younger boy on his back. "Since you seemed so concerned about him, I suppose it would do no harm to give him proper treatment… You seem capable of working for two…"

If the tone was mocking or not, Isshaku could not tell. He merely nodded, even though he did not think he could even provide sufficient work for one. Pain, fever, hunger, thirst, exhaustion all weighed him down, things he could not overcome without care. Care that would surely not be provided…

They had now been walking about a minute, and as if to prove how terrible his luck could be, snow began to fall, a gentle, light, breezy snow, yet one that spelled almost certain freezing to one without some sort of protection again its touch.

He had no shirt; his pants were closer to rags. He could not take this coldness. He must have halted, for now his new master turned, staring at him from where he stood at the end of his rope. A gentle tug, and he stumbled forward; he didn't dare upset this man now…

The journey continued, Isshaku noticing as he grew colder and colder, as each step became harder, as the impulse to fall down, rest, never wake up, began to dominate. And suddenly, without warning, he collapsed upon his knees. He stayed there a second, vision blurring as his master turned, pushing Issun gently off and bending down toward him. Yes, he deserved punishment for his failing… But he could not go any further…

As he fell completely, he felt as if he were being caught, checked over, and lifted up… Then he could remember nothing.

* * *

When Isshaku awoke, he was in a tub, a tub filled with steaming hot water in clear contrast to the frozen air he had just been exposed to. Bubbles surrounded him, and he wondered how he had gotten here, where this place was… His gaze shifted upwards, where he saw a girl, probably in her teens, staring at him, emerald eyes brimming with concern under her white hair. "Gyeh!" he shouted, pressing back against the tub's wall, arms flinging up to protect his chest. Who was she? Why was she here, not the master of the house, and why was he in this tub and getting a bath, of all things?

A hand reached out towards him, grasping his shoulder in a comforting gesture, though it caused him to struggle all the more. "Hush, shh, it's okay, calm down, you're fine-!"

He immediately stopped, though he still trembled under her steady gaze. She continued running a finger along his shoulder in a gesture that seemed familiar to Isshaku… Of course! It was the same thing the slave master had done, but why would she-?

She sighed, then decided it was best to explain. "The name's Amaterasu, okay? I'd prefer Ammy though… Shorter, easier to remember, and _nicer_. But that's not what you're wondering. You're wondering why you're here, in a nice, bubbly little tub when seconds before you were at the mercy of a vicious new master."

Ammy chuckled, rocking back and forth on her haunches. Something behind her moved, and Isshaku suddenly realized that she had a tail- a wolfish tail, and two wolf ears to match it. "Oh, well, I suppose that being taken care of, getting fluids into you, all that sorta stuff, yeah, I call it hard labor- _for me_," she complained, though she didn't seem exceedingly upset. "And, it appears that if you're flat, disguise your voice a bit, and keep your hair hidden, you can be mistaken for a guy. Long cloaks with hoods do a lot do disguise the ears and tail, no?"

She smiled at him, more like a smirk than anything. "I already cleaned most of you up… didn't do your back yet. Guess I wanted you conscious, so the work'd be easier…"

She proceeded to pull Isshaku gently away from the tub's wall, grabbing a bar of soap in the process. His body shook under her hand all the while. He didn't want his back to be touched, much less when he was in pain and didn't quite trust this Amaterasu- she must be lying about being the master, there must be someone who was pacing downstairs, waiting for her to finish giving him a false illusion of safety to make "breaking him in" much, much more fun- for them.

Suddenly, there was a sensation of burning, and though the pain was less than that of a whip being lashed against his flesh, he still cried, cried because it was agony to be touched and he knew soap was meant to clean the wound but oh how it _hurt_. The bar was quickly withdrawn, and Ammy's free hand wrapped around his front, clinging hard enough to control his ferocious shivering. Isshaku wanted, wanted so desperately, to cling back, to hold on to her arm, maybe make this pain decrease, have something to comfort him… No, he couldn't. It would probably earn a beating he was keen on avoiding.

Another dabbing, rubbing, and his protests at the stinging grew, though he tried to keep quieter. It ended as a low groaning moan, and it continued until the last of the soap was washed away from his back. Ammy's fingertips ran along his back, supporting him with one arm as he flopped over it, exhausted. When she pulled away, there was a clear frown on her face, and he trembled again, fearing he was failing some standard and was to be punished for it somehow. If he was, she made no sign of it, merely beginning to wash his hair. When it was thoroughly cleaned, she lifted him out of the tub, depositing him on a dry, fluffy towel, and proceeded to dab him dry, ever careful to avoid his back. When she finished, she ran her hand over his back again, producing fresh whimpers and shaking, then sighed. "I guess… I guess it just didn't work for you…"

Isshaku tried to look at her, wondering what she meant and if the alternative meant a beating. She looked at him, pulling him up so he was sitting, then deciding to let him lay down. "This is going to sting… A lot…"

She pulled out a bottle of some liquid and a cotton ball, wetting the latter until it was soaked. Then, placing a hand on him to make sure he held still, she pressed it against one of the numerous wounds on his back.

Burning as if from fire spread under her touch, and Isshaku _screamed_ in agony at it. He could not take it- he just wanted her to stop- it just hurt too much to tell-!

He could feel her pull the cotton away, readjusting herself, pinning him even firmer so he could not struggle, hear her whispered apologies about this being so painful but it was the only way to prevent infection – and the pain returned as the cotton was dabbed along the wounds.

Despite being used to pain, to the lash of a whip, he still screamed in pain as Ammy tried so desperately to cleanse his wounds…

* * *

**AN: I feel your pain, Isshaku... Ammy was, so you are aware, using rubbing alcohol as a cleansing agent to prevent more infections on his back and slow the ones already in existance. Rubbing alcohol stings quite a bit when applied, and the longer you wait and the more germs accumulate, the more it hurts when applied. Isshaku's had those injuries for a long while now. Therefore, that, in addition to the prolonged periods it has to lay on there to be cleaning the wounds, made his back get very, very painful.**

**Yes, he's the one the soap failed to work on. Keep in mind, though, he didn't get as much experience with her as Waka did. He fell unconscious before she picked him up, and he wasn't seated on that chair to get hydrated first. He also woke up in the middle of her trying to clean him off... Yeah, he had much less experience and was much less inclined to be trustful.**


	6. Last the Night

**AN: Oh, looky here, a new chapter! This is the second half of Isshaku's flashbacking... There will be other flashbacks, not of Isshaku himself, but you SHOULD expect them... And possibly even SOON.**

**Remember how Ushiwaka learning he had a bed seemed to be a mental trigger for him to break down? Well, apparently, having Ammy want to know his name is a similar trigger for Isshaku, though certainly not as pronounced. Ammy does make sure he gets a hug, though... maybe not in the expected way, but being tossed into the air and then being held counts for something, right? ...*silence***

**...I totally ship ShiranuiXIsshaku, just so you know. And according to the first game, Shiranui IS Amaterasu, just more powerful. They have the same actual name and gender; everyone else is just confused. This makes the fact that they were sleeping in that bed, well... Never mind. Speaking of sleeping, that scene where Isshaku was awake and thought he was asleep? It's sorta based on personal experience from when I was sick a few years back. I dreamed I was Leafpaw and was in the Medicine Cat den and everyone in the clan except Cinderpelt was sick and so was my dad Firestar and when I woke up... I still thought I was Leafpaw.**

**Go figure.**

* * *

At long last, the hand rubbing against his back stopped, and the burning agony seemed to subside, though gradually. Isshaku was pulled up until he was sitting, and then a soft, white, webbing of sorts was wrapped around him. He shifted uncomfortably; despite the feeling of security around him, he just could not bear to think of it- why should he be receiving so much care? Surely it was too much for a slave! It had to be nothing more than an odd ploy to gain his trust before completely breaking him, a total breaking he was surely close to. When the webbing finally reached the tops of his pants, Ammy sighed, both hands removed from contact with his body. If it were possible, he shook all the more. It seemed colder without contact with her, and the feeling of security he tried to ignore so desperately disappeared. Isshaku gulped. This was it, had to be it, everything else was silence before a storm-

Something was pulled around his shoulders, maneuvered so his arms fit through holes in the side- it was a shirt, and a warm one, at that. His golden eyes widened. Slaves never, _ever_ were given this privilege. It seemed an unspoken rule that they must mill about, even in the most frigid of conditions, in only the worst, and unless they were a girl and needed their tops covered up – but _why?_ Why waste money on clothes and fabric for slaves, especially when a beating would rip the fabric and cause need for greater expenses?

After the shirt was secured by buttons, another long unfamiliar feeling wrapped around him at the neck. He flinched, afraid this meant strangulation, but the fabric seemed too soft and the tug too gentle to be used for that purpose. His fingers moved upwards, slowly lest it be wrong and he'd get this taken away, to play at the fabric. It couldn't be. Yet it was.

It was a long, blue scarf.

He glanced at Ammy in an expression that could only be taken as pure confusion, which she answered with a smile. "Like it?" she asked enthusiastically. Isshaku was taken aback by the question, and began to freak out as he tried to figure out how to answer. A no would not only be a complete lie, but might earn her taking this new comfort away because "If you don't like it, why waste it on slave scum?" Yet, a direct yes, while truthful, might earn her taking everything away in pure spite just to make him upset- indeed, if she did, he'd probably break down and cry, which would only earn a lashing…

Ammy snorted, bringing his focus back. "It's an easy question, you know," she said, rolling her eyes. Isshaku started "Y-yes," he admitted, head going down, shoulders hunching, arms wrapping around himself, expecting at any moment he'd lose these novelties now. Amaterasu only smiled. "Knew it~ They just seemed to fit you, if ya know what I mean~"

Isshaku was not sure he comprehended, but he nodded anyway, lest she think his silence was meant in disrespect or disagreement. Both were liable causes for lack of supper or a beating. Suddenly, Ammy's beaming grin faltered, and her head cocked to one side. She looked at Isshaku, and her gaze seemed panicked for a second. He buried his neck further into the scarf, hoping she wasn't suddenly seeing something wrong with him…

"Can't believe I forgot this, but… What's your name?"

Isshaku took a double-take. Slave owners weren't concerned what their slaves were named; they had the right to call them whatever they wished. "It's not important…" he whispered, voice cracking both in fright and in dehydration. She continued to stare at him, emerald gaze holding his own golden one steadily. "Yes, actually" she said, rather calmly, "It is."

For a second, Isshaku found, he could not tell her. He had no voice to do so, and even when he thought himself capable to speak, he could feel the tears welling in his eyes. "It's… it's Isshaku…"

Ammy stood there a second, worried by his apparent breaking point, before grinning again. "Isshaku, eh? Well then, Isshaku, you look tired and hungry… Why don't we get you downstairs and get some food in your stomach, hmm?"

He had no time to answer before he was tossed into the air, landing safely, if not softly, in Ammy's arms. "Ah!" he cried, striking out and kicking, but her grip only strengthened. "Hold still," she complained after a second, "Or I won't be able to carry you, and you're in no fit state to walk."

With that, she carried him downstairs without further complaint.

* * *

He was laid on a couch in the family room, where Ammy left him, promising to return with some food. He merely groaned in reply. At the moment, he was more concerned as to why all the cooling systems in the world seemed focused on him, and whether or not Amaterasu would be mad if he used the blanket draped over the couch… Suddenly, a warm, furry thing catapulted at him, knocking his breath away as it landed quite firmly upon him. "Hi~! I'm Chibi, are you Isshaku? Mom told me you were all bandaged up by now, so I decided to come over and say hello~!"

Isshaku's head spun. Did this kid never stop talking? The boy did indeed resemble Ammy, his hair being the same white color, the eyes being the same green, and the ears and tail still present. "Chibi… I don't think you should bother him right now…" another, darker boy said, looking to be a black version of Chibi. "Awww, Nichi…" Chibi complained, sitting on the arm of the couch, "I just wanted to talk…"

"You can chatter the whole day away with him when I'm not worried that he's going to keel over and die of hunger on me, alright, Chibi?" Ammy's voice asked suddenly, the voice being followed by her coming into the room with a glass of water and a bowl with a spoon sticking out. "Now go on, I know you'd rather play with Issun right now and draw than watch me feed someone else… or, if you'd rather, _your _food is on the table now, so…"

At the mention of "Issun", "food", and "draw", Chibi nodded enthusiastically and raced off. Nichi, on the other hand, remained in the room, resting on a chair. "…He will recover, right, Mom?" he asked, brow furrowing in concern as he glanced at Isshaku. "We hope."

Isshaku had no time to ask what she meant before he felt water being shoved into his mouth, and then something mixed in with rice. Still shivering, though this time more in cold than fear, he tried to tell Ammy this tasted somewhat bland, but the feeling in his stomach at the thought of food, and plenty of it, prevented him. He was thankful, more than ever, at this sort of food, and when Ammy finally took it away and warned that any more at this moment would probably make him lose all the nutrition gained, he was rather sorry about it.

Dinner now being finished, Ammy turned towards him again. "Well then, I certainly know I and the children are not ready for bed, but you… You're feverish and exhausted. You need rest, need it to recover… So up you go."

Isshaku once again felt the stomach-churning feeling of being tossed into the air and landing in Ammy's arms. From there, he was carried back up the stairs, back towards where the bathroom was, but Ammy turned the other way, entering another door that lead to a bedroom. It would have been considered somewhat small for normal bedroom standards, but to Isshaku, who was used to sleeping on the floor, it seemed wonderful. The bed had been pushed into a corner, a thing he was grateful for. It looked like a safe, secure place to rest… And suddenly, he was deposited upon it.

Ammy gave him a reassuring smile as he whimpered, gazing up at her. "It's all right, this is where you'll be sleeping, for now at least… Just to keep you close until you're out of the woods, okay?" She continued smiling at him, tail waving. "There's T-shirts in the second drawer from the bottom, and you're sitting on some new pants; I'll let you put them on yourself once I get out. Anything else?"

He shook his head; Isshaku could not think of anything else possible to ask from her, not when she had done so much already that no one else would dare do. Ammy nodded and left, light turning off behind her. Frightened by the sudden darkness, Isshaku kicked off his old rags and pulled on new, fresh pants, before snuggling under the blanket covers. His back stung in pain as he tried to lay on it, so he rolled over, deciding to sleep on his front instead. Then, as minutes passed, he fell into sleep…

* * *

His dreams were filled with nightmares of being back at the slave market, all the other slaves and masters hurrying past him, spitting at him at mocking him, the "slave who spoke of being free". Even the albino-haired one, the one he knew to be Ammy, stood there, laughing at him for sincerely believing that he should ever care… Then he seemed transported to a place where he lay on his back, gazing up at a ceiling of sorts. It must be a new master's place, and he had to get away, had to get away-

Another figure came into his line of vision, calling out his name, and he was suddenly shaken awake. For a second he gazed, glazed gold eyes staring into Ammy's wide emerald green ones. "You… your eyes were open… but you weren't responding…" she murmured in confusion, looking rather worried. Isshaku didn't respond. How could that be possible…? Ammy, seeing that he wasn't saying anything, turned and walked over to a dresser, opening the top drawer, groping blindly for a moment, trying to find something. A small light began glowing, illuminating her face, for once lacking a smile. She instead looked determined, and her hand came up a second later, holding something. The end was soon popped into his mouth and there was a beep. "Keep it under your tongue," Ammy told him firmly. He nodded weakly, making sure not to dislodge the thermometer, as it happened to be. Minutes seemed to stretch into hours before there was another beep, and Ammy took the thermometer out of his mouth, peering at it with the light of a flashlight. From the way she paled, he could tell it wasn't good. "One hundred and four…" she muttered, brow furrowing.

Definitely not good.

Her reaction was sudden. She rolled back off the bed, and headed back to the drawer, flashlight still in hand. She pulled out a bottle, shook it, and poured some of the liquid inside it into a small container, setting the flashlight down so both of her hands were free. After the liquid reached a certain height, she put the cap back on the bottle and brought the container to Isshaku's lips. "Drink it," Ammy told him firmly, looking rather determined, and he did, gagging at the cherry-like taste. The second after, water was being poured down his throat. _Where did she get that…?_ He wondered briefly, unable to remember her bringing water in with her. His thoughts were cut short, however, as he was lifted up for the third time that day and carried gently in Amaterasu's arms. The walk was brief; out the door, down the hall, and into another room, also a bedroom, but much larger. In the center was a bed, much larger than the one he had been sleeping in, and he was laid on it, the covers being pulled over top of him.

"I'll be right back, okay?" Ammy told him, and he nodded weakly. His whole body felt on fire, especially his back. Everything blurred, and he did his best not to slip out of consciousness or fall asleep before Ammy could return, lest she decide not to do anything further while he was asleep and he lose any further possible care. He struggled until he had raised himself into a semi-upright position, on his back so maybe the pain could keep him awake… and his eyes closed for a brief second.

They reopened as he felt himself being shaken. "You must be really exhausted… I leave you for a few minutes to get a cold washcloth and you fall asleep," Ammy murmured, said cold washcloth being draped over his forehead and bringing a lovely, cooling sensation. Isshaku blinked up at her. He hadn't remembered falling asleep…

"Well, since you're up for now, might as well get food into your stomach," Ammy continued, getting up again. "Sorry, you'll have to lie on your back for a while, otherwise that cloth will slip off."

With that, she left, and once again Isshaku closed his eyes briefly, only to be reawakened by shaking. "…Very exhausted."

With that, Ammy commenced shoving food into his mouth until his protests became loud enough that no, at this hour he just wanted rest. The food bowl went away, but this time he stayed awake long enough for Ammy to return and flip the washcloth to the cooler side before getting into the bed herself. _This must be HER bedroom_, Isshaku realized with a jolt.

It took him considerably longer to get to sleep after that…

* * *

When he awoke the next morning, he was alone, bed empty. A question burned in his mind, burned perhaps even more than his body, despite its feverish condition. _Where's Ammy?_

Half-delirious, he pushed himself out of bed, groaning, and proceeded to stumble around, nearly falling down the stairs as he tried to find where Ammy was. He smacked into the wall at the bottom, reeling around briefly while clutching his head. Wherever she was, it wasn't in the room she had fed him in last night, even though that was where Chibi, Nichi, and Issun were…

He turned a corner, half on instinct, and made his way down until he reached a door. He turned the knob, whether knowing it led outside or thinking it led to another room was unclear. Whatever he thought, the sight before him let him know he made a good choice. Before him was a garden, green, fresh, and warm even though winter was so near, but that was not what he was most interested in. There, beneath the blossoms of a cherry tree, sat Ammy.

He stumbled over, having an inexplicable urge to be there, be close to her, anything, until he finally collapsed beside her. She looked him over, half shocked that he had made his way so far just to find her before breaking into a smile. "Well, look who's finally up!" she exclaimed teasingly, lifting up a hand and running it through his hair. Isshaku didn't know why, but it felt so marvelously wonderful, and he snuggled closer against her. Ammy continued looking at him, hand still running through his hair. "I do think, Isshaku, that you will make it. The first night is always the worst, and you've shown yourself to be a fighter."

* * *

**AN: ...Huh. I do believe Ushiwaka saw Isshaku under a cherry tree clearly visible as he exited the house... Could it be the same tree Isshaku saw Ammy under?**

**...That's for me to know and you to find out.**


	7. Twin Brothers of the Sun

**AN: This is probably the longest chapter yet, lasting five pages... and oh, looky here, we have a formal introduction of Chibi and Nichi here, as well as mentions to Tsukuyomi, Ammy's brother!**

**Just so you know, Nichi/Nichibotsu is my fanname for dark Chibiterasu, "Nichibotsu" apparently meaning "sunset" in Japanese (According to Google Translate...). Nichi, Chibi, and co. are nine/around nine in this; Ammy, Isshaku, and Ushiwaka are seventeen; Issun is fifteen; in the flashback for Isshaku he was fifteen (figure out the other ages yourself); in this flashback, Chibi and Nichi are two while Ammy is ten (thus why she CANNOT be their Mom...) No, Ammy is NOT Chibi's mom in this, again, see ages for why.**

**I included one of my OCs in this chapter. You may not notice him, which is not unusual; he is always somewhat of a background character that receives unfair abuse. His name is Sir. Sir is a gentlemanly person, like a butler. In fact, he has been a butler in the past, but some sort of incident happened, as usual, which made him decide to quit and seek better employment. As with every job, it fails. Poor Sir.**

* * *

Ushiwaka stayed out there, sitting under the cherry tree, for a long time, pondering over what had happened with Isshaku. What could have caused him to get so upset like that? He did not, could not understand the story behind Isshaku's actions, at least not yet… His gaze drifted up towards the setting sun, watching how low it was in the sky and wondering how long he had been outside. Still, he didn't feel like getting up and going inside, not just yet. He still did not feel up to meeting the other members of the household…

The door opened and closed again, and he looked over to see who it could be. It was a white-haired boy, the one who looked like a miniature Ammy. He started walking towards Ushiwaka, then paused halfway there. "Mom's making dinner," he said plainly, "And she wants you to come back in. If you go to the kitchen there's a good chance she'll give you tidbits of food every so often…"

The boy continued to stand there, staring suspiciously at Ushiwaka for a few minutes. Ushiwaka shrank back from the stare, wondering why everyone but Ammy seemed skeptical of him… Then the kid broke into a huge grin and walked over, plopping down next to Ushiwaka and snuggling against him. "I guess you'd make a good dad~" he yipped happily, wolf tail wagging. _A good dad?_ Ushiwaka thought, somewhat horrified. What could possibly have put that thought into the boy's mind?

* * *

After a few minutes, he walked back inside, the boy, who introduced himself as Chibiterasu, racing on ahead of him. He followed him into the kitchen, where Ammy was already working. "I brought him in, Mom~" Chibi practically sang, rubbing against Amaterasu's side. _THIS is his mother?_ Ushiwaka thought, wondering how a teenager could already have mothered a boy who looked about nine or ten already. Amaterasu grinned back, rubbing a hand through Chibi's hair. "I can see, Chibi~ Now, here's a treat, go help Nichi and Isshaku with setting the table, all right?"

Chibi scowled at having to set the table, but he all too happily ate the ham slice Ammy presented him with. Ushiwaka's eyes followed him, glancing out at the adjoining dining room. Isshaku and the black haired boy were already in there, and Isshaku glanced up briefly to give Ushiwaka a smile. Apparently he wasn't as cold as Ushiwaka had thought…

"'Mom'?" he asked, turning to face Amaterasu. She raised an eyebrow. "According to him and Nichi? Yep."

Her gaze trailed towards the two boys, but Ushiwaka's remained fixed on her. "Pardon, but… you seem a bit young to be a mother…" he murmured, half hoping she wouldn't hear. Her sigh made it apparent she had. "That's perfectly true," she answered, eyes still locked on the boys. "But then… why do they call you their mother?"

Finally her emerald eyes turned back to him. "You have met Isshaku be now, I presume? From how agitated he seemed coming in, I presume you asked how he got here. Maybe he said nothing, which wouldn't quite surprise me, seeing as how he hates to speak of it. Maybe he did, and told you he was the first slave I ever bought. He might be right, in some respects; he certainly was the first slave I bought under the guise of the Albino. However, he was actually not the first. No, the first slaves I ever bought were seven years ago, when I was lost in unfamiliar surroundings, and the first one to find me was a little white haired boy…"

* * *

Amaterasu glanced around, perhaps just a bit uneasy. From her confident pose and half-smirk, it would be difficult, if not flat-out impossible, to tell how scared and uneasy she really was. In all truth, she was quite lost, her path having strayed into a darker, dingier part of town, the part where a black market specializing in slave trade flourished. She knew there was nothing to fear of some slaver merchant taking her captive; not only was she capable of defending herself, but no slave trader would dare mess with someone bestowed with the divine markings.

It was all part of her over-confident nature that got her into this mess. Tsukuyomi, her older, thirteen year old brother, had warned her not to go running off, and yet what had she done? A little bit of what she liked to call "exploring" and what Tsukuyomi would call "exasperating." It ended with her being here of all places, and now she had no clue as to which way was "out".

As she glanced around, trying to look as calm as possible, a very small white thing barreled towards her, wrapping itself around her. "Mommy!" it cried, snuggling against her, and Ammy saw that, to her horror, it was a small white-haired boy with ears and tail much like her own. Behind him raced a slave trader, who stopped in shock when he saw where the child had gone. "Oh, miss, I am _so_ sorry about that; he's always wandering off, I can punish him if you'd like," the merchant stuttered, bowing in shame at being unable to control his charge. Ammy wouldn't allow it, however. "No, it's fine, honestly. In fact… how much were you asking for him, anyways?"

She couldn't leave the boy, not now, when he had chosen her so willingly, even thinking she was his "mom". It was true; the boy did look rather similar to her. The trader looked stumped for a second. "Erm… I… he hadn't been put on the market yet, he's too young, I dunno-!"

A bag of money landed at his feet. "Fifty thousand?"

"He's yours."

Ammy picked up the boy and slung him over her shoulder, heading out through the market until she saw what appeared to be an exit. It led into a field, and once she knew they were safe and away from prying owners, she set the kid down. "Okay, then, kid. Did they name you?"

The young boy thought for a second, the effort seeming hard on his young brain. "Hey, you!" he responded brightly after a second. Ammy face palmed. "…All right, we need a better name than that. Hey, you do look a lot like me, you know. Maybe call you Junior?"

The kid's face twisted into an expression of disgust. Clearly, "Junior" was not the name to call him. Ammy was stumped for a second. What could possibly have the sort of ring to it the kid seemed to expect? "…How about Chibiterasu? Like Amaterasu, but the tiny version of it. Call you Chibi for short."

The newly-dubbed Chibi nodded his head enthusiastically, breaking out into a grin that resembled Ammy's own. "Great. Got that going for us, then…"

* * *

The next order of business would be to get Chibi into clothes that could not be called, more appropriately, rags. That meant hauling the kid all the way to a nearby store, for the regular markets in town had supplies of clothes too far between for her to trust them. It was true, bringing in a kid who still had slave rags was a bold move, but desperate times called for desperate measures…

In fact, she didn't need to wait long for some sort of conflict. "Um, pardon me miss, but slaves aren't to be brought in here," the clerk told her as she walked through the door. She glared at him in return. "He's NOT a slave," she snarled, ready to hit him with any one of her numerous weapons. As it turned out, there was no need; the man readily shrinking back. "Oh, um, I'm dreadfully sorry, miss…"

She continued on without further interference into the clothing department, heading for the section filled with clothes for younger kids. "Pick anything you'd like~!" she told Chibi enthusiastically, and he nodded before turning to the selection and reeling. Never before had he seen so much color, so many different kinds of clothes! He glanced up at Ammy uncertainly, and she waved him forward. He continued staring at her, until a lightbulb seemed to flicker in his head, and he toddled off. Ammy found him standing right before a section of white clothes much like hers, clearly meant for boys. "Good choice," she told him with a smirk. "Pants?"

He pointed at a section or burgundy red pants, again much like her own. Ammy chuckled. "Nice one." A sudden thought struck her, and she gazed at Chibi uneasily. "You… you have been housebroken, right?"

Chibi stopped in his tracks, hesitated, and looked at her before nodding slowly. "Eh… I… I sorta have to go now, too…" he murmured uneasily.

Ammy was glad she asked.

* * *

The bathroom incident was followed by a trip into the toy section, where Chibi immediately picked out a medium-sized white wolf plush. They then headed to check-out, where they were met by the same odd clerk who thought Chibi was a slave. He still stared at them in shock and mild horror, only stopping when Ammy growled at him, asking "Problem?" to which he replied no and hastily bagged the items and sent them on their way.

Reaching home, she deposited everything but the clothes needed for Chibi to change into onto the hallway floor, heading upstairs with Chibi for a good bath. Though well cared for, especially for a slave, he was a bit dirty, and certainly in need of a bath. Depositing him on the floor, she turned and started up a bath, making sure to pour in the necessary amount of bubble bath and keeping the water warm. One could never be sure with a child, but Ammy had a certain feeling they liked bubble baths. She bent down next to Chibi, first pulling off his shirt and then helping him out of his pants before attempting to lower him into the tub. He flailed, whining and complaining about not wanting to go in, but at last she was able to get him in.

Once he was in, he seemed content with her rubbing soap all over him, dowsing his hair and making sure to wash it thoroughly without getting soap in his eyes. With a laugh, he splashed some water at her, and it caught her right in the face. "Oh, so you think that's funny, do you?" Ammy asked, putting hands to her hips with a hopefully stern face ruined by a smirk as she heard Chibi laugh even harder. "Well, then, two can play at THAT game."

With that, she flicked her own tail, using waterspout to cover Chibi over with a gusher of water. He sat there for a moment, dripping wet and looking terribly shocked, and Ammy worried she had done something wrong and he was going to cry. _Please, please, PLEASE don't let him cry; I don't know how to handle crying children_, Ammy thought quickly, but that was the least of her worries. Chibi took a look at her own tail, slapping his about to look at it more closely. For the first time, Ammy noticed it was tipped in black, which could mean only one thing. Her emerald eyes widened. _Oh, goodness no, please don't tell me he's-_

A wave of water went over the tub and splashed her. She gagged, lifting her dripping arms and trying to survey the damage while Chibi roared with laughter. "Nice one, wise guy."

He only continued laughing. "Let's go get brother!" he shouted, arms going up in excitement. "…You have a BROTHER!"

* * *

"Just give me his brother."

"He's not on sale yet-"

"Fifty thousand."

"…Sold."

* * *

This boy was just the opposite of Chibi. Whereas Chibi had already shown himself to be happy and excitable, this boy was quiet and withdrawn. Even their hair was opposite, for while Chibi's was pure white, this boy's was like the deepest, darkest night. Just like Chibi, however, he needed a name, and Ammy was, once again, quite stumped. "Shadowterasu? With Shadow for short? I mean, after all, you are pretty dark," she asked, head cocking. The boy, who appeared to be Chibi's twin in black, shook his head, and so did Chibi. Apparently that name did not fit. Ammy pondered the situation a while longer. What name could she give him…? _Well, if I'm the sunrise, and Chibi's the sun like me, and this boy is so different… _"Nichibotsu?" she suggested, head cocked. "Nichi for short?"

Two nods. Nichi it was, then.

* * *

Just like Chibi, Nichi needed new clothes to replace the rags he had. Again, this meant a trip to the store. It also meant coming face to face with the clerk…

"Um, madam!" he called out, clearly flustered by her sudden reappearance, and she paused to glance at him. "I could understand the first, being you son, but this one is clearly NOT your son and should say outside…"

Amaterasu halted in pure shock that he'd even dare think that. Setting Nichibotsu onto the ground, she marched over to the clerk and grabbed his tie. "Now look here, _SIR,_" she snarled, pulling him in so close their faces almost touched, "While it is true, he is not my son, neither is Chibi, and I cannot believe you'd _dare_ suggest that because his hair color is different from Chibi, they are any less of a brotherly pair. Now good day, and why don't you try _minding your own dang business._"

As Ammy stalked off towards the clothes section with the two boys, Sir rubbed his neck. "I knew I should have quit this job earlier…"

Arriving at the clothes section with Nichi, Ammy half expected it to be like Chibi, who was stunned by the variety and needed to look at her for clues. "Now, Nichi, what would you like to wear?" she asked questioningly, glancing at the black-haired boy. He stood there for a minute, not in confusion like Chibi, but rather pondering. His gaze turned towards Chibi and Ammy, and she wondered if, on seeing them in white, he'd also go for white clothes. His gaze then turned towards their tails; both were white. He pondered this thought for a while, before starting to spin himself, spending a few minutes chasing his tail, an innocently adorable sight, until he seemed to gather the needed information, before nodding and heading towards clothes similar to Chibi's, but black instead of white. "…Nice. Color coordination."

Apparently he decided that the clothes had to match the tail color…

* * *

The toy section was next, again, and Chibi, like any sensible child, wanted another toy. "Please?" he asked, giving Ammy wide green puppy eyes. The sight was irresistible, but Ammy shook her head. "It wouldn't be fair to Nichi. You've already got one."

"But Moooom!" Chibi whined, looking at her. Ammy rubbed her temples, frustrated. "Fine, then. You can get another, small plush… Nichi also gets one, however, so you're even, okay?"

Both Chibi and Nichi nodded vigorously before heading down the toy aisle, eyes widening as they searched for something. Nichi quickly came back carrying his spoils, which happened to be a black wolf plush much like Chibi's and a small, nearly white husky plush with a red bandana. He quite willingly gave Ammy the husky plush to hold, but remained his grip on the black wolf, burying his head into its soft fur. Chibi took longer to return.

When he did, he was carrying a small golden retriever in his arms, a brown collar around it. "Mine!" he declared with a grin, holding it up for Ammy to see. As she looked at it, she noticed it lacked a tag. "Where'd you find it?" she asked, worried he'd found a lost item instead of a plush he could buy. "There!" he said, and he raced over to a small house containing four other similar plushes. Ammy gaped in shock. "No, no, no- Chibi, I said _one_ small plush, that's _five!_" she cried, exasperated. Chibi pondered this for a second before breaking into a smile. "Three for me, two for Nichi~!" he decided. Ammy rolled her eyes. "That's still not fair-!"

There was a gentle tug on her robe, and she looked down to see Nichi, who was pointing at the husky. "Three."

Apparently, they were getting the whole set.

* * *

"They've been my boys ever since…" Ammy finished with a murmur, eyes still glazed, lost in the past. Ushiwaka's eyes widened. "But… haven't they figured out that you can't possibly be their mom?" he asked, amazed. Amaterasu shook her head. "No. Nichi wasn't sure at first; he could remember a time before me that Chibi seemed to have forgotten… but as the years went on, even he forgot. No, they're used to being my sons, and I wouldn't have them think any different. Because, I do confess, I often forget that they are not my real sons themselves."


	8. At Fate's Calling

**AN: I seem to have a soft spot for Ushiwaka being somewhat broken... Which is totally the reason I started writing this, but still. It's pretty evident in this chapter.**

**Just so you know, in headcanon, Michizane (Sugawara) is Ushiwaka's uncle. Ushiwaka's father is Michizane's younger brother. According to THIS PARTICULAR STORY (and as of the moment, ONLY this story), Michizane is retired from politics but was engaged in them before his "retirement" (he retired when he started becoming disgusted with Moon Tribish politics); Ushiwaka's father is still engaged in them. The Moon Tribe apparently has a China-like one-child policy. Ushiwaka is five when he first gets the flute; nine when he plays it fluently for the first time; ten when he's sold into slavery. By his own father. Yes, his father is a total jerk, I do agree.**

**I am well aware certain things seem a bit far-fetched, like him finding his own flute in Ammy's attic. I am also aware you cannot become a fully talented musician in seconds. As for the latter, I will say that Ushiwaka DID have the capability to play; he did practice and he knew how to play. However, he just put no spirit into his playing and thus it didn't sound as wonderful as it possibly could. As for his flute... Well, there have been stranger, more wonderful coincidences. Reading over some old copies of Reader's Digest comfirms this in my mind, yet... my memory is bad. *shrugs* Ah well.**

**Also, in case you're curious as to what song he's playing... look no further than his own theme. 8D**

* * *

The next morning, Ushiwaka woke to being shaken. "Hey. Hey. Ushiwaka-chan. Wake up."

His blue eyes blinked open to see Ammy standing above him. "AIYAH!" he cried, freaking at her sudden presence, kicking the covers off of him. Amaterasu backed away hurriedly, hands in front of her. "Ah, sorry, didn't mean to freak you out."

Ushiwaka blinked, giving an involuntary cough as he gazed up towards her. "Why… are you in my room so early in the morning?" he asked slowly, feeling his face grow red. Had he somehow known Ammy would be coming in, he would've worn something else to bed instead of a T-shirt… Now he felt simply awkward. "I was going to look through the attic, and figured that since you're new here, you might be able to find something of use… Wanna come?"

Ushiwaka was unsure of whether he really wanted to get up this early in the morning just to sort through dusty boxes, but he realized with a grimace that it couldn't harm him and that giving into Ammy's request might be the best thing to do. "Fine," he mumbled, not sure how he could find anything that he'd want.

* * *

After pulling on his actual shirt, he followed Ammy's lead up and into the attic, glancing around in surprise at what he saw. There were quite a few boxes, and they were stacked, but it wasn't as cramped and claustrophobia-inducing as he had imagined. It was, however, a bit dusty, and even Ammy sneezed as they entered. "Okay, then, you take that side, I take this side, tell me if you see anything interesting, okay?"

Ushiwaka nodded, unsure of what else to possibly do. He wandered over to a box, carefully prying the top open. There wasn't much, just some knick-knacks that seemed of hardly any value to him. He was just about to close the lid when something tan and cylindrical caught his eye. Grasping it in his delicate fingers, he lifted it carefully, glancing it over to be sure his eyes weren't deceiving him. It didn't seem possible, but his suspicions were correct.

It was a flute.

Why, he wondered, would Ammy keep a flute in her attic when nothing she did indicated she was musically inclined? He glanced nervously back to where she was, shuffling through boxes, and he hoped she wouldn't mind him examining this closer… Could he still play it like he used to, so many years ago? He gently, ever do carefully, raised it to his lips, eyes closing to blink away fear and old memories, trying to remember a song… And suddenly, a clear note rang out, followed by another, falling into an old, achingly familiar memory…

"How… how do you do that?"

Ammy's murmur disrupted him, causing a note that sounded more like a shriek. "Uh- I- I didn't know you were listening, I thought it would be okay, I-!"

His tirade of surprised excuses came to a halt as Ammy continued. "No, it's okay, it sounded wonderful… Where… how did you learn to play like that?"

Ushiwaka glanced back at the floor. "It's a long story," he mumbled finally. "I have time," Ammy countered. His head shook, slowly, mournfully. "No… I… I don't believe you'd want to hear this story."

His own memory, however, had already returned to a time before he became a slave, a time when he had a family, a time when he was loved… the time before everything fell apart.

* * *

He had been visiting his uncle Michizane for as long as he could remember. In fact, the first week after two long months spent at home was one of the most joyous times for him, the time he visited his uncle. Michizane always had a wealth of stories to tell, whether legends or history or even events from his own life. Besides that, he was an excellent Biwa player, and his music always seemed so… beautiful, so _moving_. Many were the times when young Ushiwaka, lying on the floor after a long day of storytelling, would listen to Michizane's playing and feel pangs of envy that he could not cause these rising emotions, these wonderful feelings his uncle's playing gave him.

Today was the last day of his visit there, a day that brought much sorrow to him. Somehow, Michizane's house seemed so much warmer, so much more inviting than even his own parents' house. He loathed having to leave, couldn't wait until his next visit, yet… this time, he ached all the more at the thought of leaving; it felt odd for him to believe this, yet… he felt that the reason Michizane's house felt so inviting was because, while his uncle had no lack of warmth towards him and believed that Ushiwaka could do anything he set his mind to, his parents… His parents had an odd apathy towards him, a certain lack of interest, which, though it never truly bothered him, did sting a little at times…

He stuffed the last of his clothes into the bag he brought with him for the week's visit, frustration ebbing through him. Why, _why_, he wondered, did he have to leave when this was the place he felt so welcome? Still moody, he slung the bag over his shoulder, stalking off towards the door where his father was already waiting. Michizane was there, too, smiling sadly at Ushiwaka, his own mind reflecting that of the boy's. Why did Ushiwaka's parents take him back after every week and keep him for so long when he knew they barely cared about their own son? There was a difference, he knew, between having a child and being a proper parent towards them. His fingers drifted behind his back, grasping at something, waiting for the proper moment to reveal it…

"Well, come on, then, Ushiwaka. Say goodbye," his father said, impatient, and Michizane frowned. How his brother, his younger brother, could be so apathetic amazed him. Ushiwaka glanced up at Michizane, looking positively tearful, finally breaking and racing over, burying his head into his uncle's robes. Michizane rubbed his back comfortingly, waiting until the child stopped shaking before bending down to his eye level. "It is all right," he told Ushiwaka, gazing into the child's wide blue eyes. "I do have something for you… Something that might help soften the distance…"

With that, he pulled out the hidden object, rolling it into his hands. Ushiwaka gave a small gasp as he glanced over it. It was not much, just a simple flute, tan and new, but it was a wonder to this child, a child who loved music and desired so ardently to be able to play. "I… I can keep it?" he asked, eyes wide. Michizane nodded. "Yes, of course, and you can play it for me next time, show me how much you've learned."

Ushiwaka's gaze was full of excitement and wonder as he pondered over what this would mean for him. His own instrument, one he could learn to play himself. "Thank you, oh, thank you, Uncle Michi~" he cried, throwing himself at the older man. Michizane chuckled, wrapping the child in the long sleeves of him garments. "But of course, it is nothing!" he reassured Ushiwaka, rocking him gently. Over by the door, Ushiwaka's father shifted. "He can stay another week," he said finally. "That way you can teach him how to play and he does not need to learn on his own."

Ushiwaka spun around, young face flushed with excitement. "Do you mean it?" he asked, voice tingling with anticipation. "Of course."

And though his nephew was thrilled at this sudden turn of events, Michizane's eyes were mournful, questioning. He knew it wasn't to "let him learn" that inspired Ushiwaka's father to allow him to stay there. But he would say nothing. After all, why encroach on this child's happiness by letting him know the truth behind his father's distance?

* * *

The visits increased from once every two months to once every month, and from once every month to every other week, but Ushiwaka couldn't care less. He enjoyed these visits to Uncle Michizane, and the more time spent with him and the less time spent at his parents, the better he felt. Yet, at the same time…

He still had not learned to play the flute. It was true, he could play the simple tunes, basic notes, and everything Michizane set before him for practice. But he had not yet learned to play more complex songs, nor did he know how to put the feelings, those wonderful emotions his uncle could convey through his music. Perhaps it did not help that he never practiced at home, yet something told him that if he tried, it would lead to his parents warning him to "keep quiet" or "practice later", and he didn't want to upset them. Michizane always seemed so ready to encourage him, a quality that Ushiwaka loved.

He was trying to play now, sitting just beside Michizane on one of the larger chairs in the room. Despite being eight years old by now, his frame was still rather small, and it was quite possible for him to share a chair with his uncle without discomfort. As he played, the notes sounded dull, lack-luster, lacking the clear, beautiful quality Michizane's had. Finally frustrated beyond his capacity, he gave up, flinging the flute halfway across the room, where it clattered to the floor. "I just can't do it!" he cried, flopping backwards, eyes closing. "I can't play… I just can't… It all sounds wrong, not like yours and it's awful and-!"

The warm presence beside him disappeared, and he cracked one eye open to see his uncle pick up the flute, brushing it off with one hand, before turning and walking back. "Perhaps it is not your own talent that is lacking," he murmured quietly. "Perhaps it is only the way I am trying to teach you. You cannot put your feelings into mere practice; perhaps you should attempt playing what music is in your heart…"

Ushiwaka blinked. How could he do that? What did he really, truly want to play? Slowly, tentatively, he reached out, gently raising the flute from Michizane's outstretched hands. _Play what I want to play?_

The flute drifted up towards his lips, his fingers tilting instinctively into the proper positions. _…What do I want to play?_

Slowly, carefully at first, a note rang out, then another, and into a melody, a melody he fell into quickly as if he knew it all his life. Quietly, magically, everything he had practiced over the years fell into place. Michizane smiled down at the boy, taking place beside him, fingers strumming over his Biwa in accompaniment. And for the first time ever, Ushiwaka seemed to truly burst from his quiet shell.

* * *

The visits soon lengthened until only one week was spent at his parents' house every two months, an ironic mirror of how he first began his visits to Michizane. While Ushiwaka's enthusiasm went undaunted, he failed to notice Michizane's increasing concern over the increasing length of the visits. His oblivion continued until one fateful night as he lay awake, trying to sleep during the last moments of his visit with his uncle. His father had already come that night, though why was uncertain.

"You cannot do this to the boy!" Michizane. He sounded furious, though why was uncertain.

"I have no other choice." His father.

"Ignore the laws! Give up these futile politics! He is your own son; you cannot do this to him! Despite your lack of empathy towards him, he still loves you! You cannot sell him into slavery just because the law dictates you cannot have more than one son-!"

"Do do otherwise would be to overturn a law I made myself." His father sounded weary, as if this argument drained him. "Besides, it is not your right to speak of politics so lightly as you have; you know all too well you were involved in them yourself."

"…You… You knew somehow this day would come… that's why you signed that law… you _wanted_ to be rid of him, and denying it would only incriminate you further." Michizane's voice was horrified, and Ushiwaka's heart beat faster as he strained to listen in on the conversation. "He was your _son,_ but why should you care? _You never cared!_ Even when I told you I'd gladly raise him myself… No… I don't understand you, and I don't believe I ever will."

* * *

The next morning, when Ushiwaka awoke, he was no longer in the familiar surroundings of his uncle's home. Instead, he was lying on hard, dirt floor, body aching everywhere, everything strange and unusual. "Finally, he's woken up."

"Trust a politician's son to be lazy… Come on, _filth, WAKE UP!_"

With that, he was pulled roughly to his feet, clothes being ripped directly from his body and searing pain across his back-

* * *

"Ushiwaka?" Ammy's quiet, concerned voice jerked him back to the present, and he suddenly became aware of the silent tears slipping down his face. He was still clutching the flute, but it had been drawn up against his body, guarded there so no one could dare try and take it away, this last comfort of his… "Are you okay?"

No, no, he was not okay, but his head nodded anyway. Amaterasu stared at him, eyes narrowing, as if she sensed he was lying, and he flinched back… Only to be wrapped into a hug. "It's okay, you don't have to tell me…" she murmured, hands rubbing against his back. After a few seconds of this pure heaven, she drew back, turning to head back to her boxes. Ushiwaka stared after her, wishing he could go back to that state only a few seconds ago… "Where did you get this, anyway?" he asked, voice cracking. He still did not understand, why did she have this if she did not seem inclined to play music…?

"Eh, an old friend gave it to me; said he couldn't keep it, brought too many painful memories. He was a friend, so I couldn't give it away… Michi's always giving me stuff, though; he has plenty enough himself."

With a shrug, she turned away, failing to notice Ushiwaka's body go rigid with shock. Could it be? It seemed impossible fate would work this way towards him, yet… Somehow, he knew it was true, had to be true.

This flute, the flute he had found in an attic of someone he only just began to know, was his own.


	9. I have no Family

**AN: So, we finally see Kurow in here... and we also see more of Chibi's exuberent personality. He honestly does try, but his tendency towards over-excitement gets in the way...**

**Yes, apparently Kurow has an uncle Michizane, who had strains with his father. Sound familiar...? Tsukuyomi pops up in this chapter, somewhat moreso than just a name. He doesn't attempt slave rescue like his sister, Ammy, but he does disapprove. He had no choice with Kurow, though... Isshaku legitimately thought Kurow was a girl, so you know. This isn't that surprising, though, seeing as everyone who doesn't know Kurow mistakes him as a girl when I show them a picture. The slave mentioned who helped Kurow has no place in this fanfiction, but he might make an appearance in... something else... *innocent whistle* Also, I wonder if anyone remembers that golden retriever plush...**

**...Is it bad that I try and keep these things under four pages? I mean, it's usually a good goal, but... I think it makes the chapters lesser in quality than if I'm not worried about page number.**

* * *

Ushiwaka made his way down the stairs, legs trembling, still clutching the flute. He didn't dare let go of it, not now; this last link to his past that had all but disappeared. His mind was so focused on things far away, so shaken, he almost ran straight into Chibiterasu, heading up the stairway with another boy about his age. Chibi didn't seem to mind almost being ran into; in fact, he smiled up at Ushiwaka, cracking a grin as he did so. The other boy was quieter, merely nodding, a small smile on his face; he seemed more confident around Chibi than perhaps he normally would, Ushiwaka noted.

He also noticed something else, something that made his eyes stretch in disbelief. It was true that he had seen the boy at dinner last night, but he had barely paid him much attention, his focus being more on Amaterasu herself, and trying not to give her an occasional glance- something he had failed at horribly. Now, he finally noticed this boy, this boy who had the same golden hair, the same brilliant blue eyes, even similar pink clothes with purple pants! It couldn't, simply couldn't be possible, not with the rumors flying about the markets of what happened to his homeland only a few years after he had been sold into slavery!

Chibi seemed to have noticed the similarity as well, glancing towards Ushiwaka, then at his companion, and back again, confusing etched on his face. Finally, he broke into a wide grin. "Hey… you two look pretty similar… Do ya think you might be related?"

Beside him, the other boy shook his head. "Can't be possible, Dude," he whispered, voice cracking. "All my family is dead."

* * *

Kurow choked as he ran, struggling to escape the blaze that engulfed his family's home. He was just four years old, too young to survive for long without damaging effects to his still-growing body, and he didn't understand why his mommy and daddy hadn't yet come to help him. Where could they possibly be? He whimpered as something crashed beside him, inferno ever increasing in heat. He needed to get out of here, but how?

Something- someone – grabbed him, lifting him up, carrying him out and away. He clung to whoever it was, hoping that it meant he was going to be safe soon… A boom, like that of a bomb, and the person jumped, flying through the air and landing perfectly, still holding Kurow. "He's out!" came a shout, a shout from his savior, who set Kurow promptly on the ground. "The last one out."

A snort came from nearby. "The only one out," came the gruff reply. "His parents are already gone."

Kurow held back a choked sob, wondering what this meant for him now. He stared down at the ground, barely noticing as his savior stood back up. "He must have some other family we can bring him to."

"Eh, last family was a guy named Michizane, I think. He wouldn't take him though; I'm sure, not after the argument two years back. Can't remember what it was about, all I know is they're not on speaking terms now. We can't do anything else for him. Take him to the markets, it's the only choice left now."

Kurow shook. "The markets" was not a familiar term to him, not at this young age, but he knew from the tone of the other it was not a nice place. He knew, however, about the argument; though he was only two when it happened, he vaguely remembered visiting Uncle Michizane once every two months, until one day, his father came home, announcing they were not happening anymore. "Uncle Michi and I had a disagreement," he told Kurow when the child looked about to cry. "I don't think he'd want to see you anymore, but that's his problem, okay?"

Kurow had believed him, but now he wished Uncle Michi still liked him… There was a scoff from above him, and as soon as gruff-voice turned away, someone bent to his eye level. "I can't do anything to help you now, not without showing my true identity…" the person murmured, gentle emerald eyes with sparks of moonlight in them told the boy. "But you will not suffer needlessly. Though your rescue is not imminent, I fear, you will be spared the horrors of most slaves… And there will be rescue… Look for white hair, no matter what the form. Yes, white hair… She can help you in what I cannot do myself, not now…"

And with that, he was carried off to who knows where…

* * *

It had been five years since his parent's house had burned down, condemning him to this fate. He was back in the slave markets, back after a horrendous experience at a former master, one who had kept him for the nearly five years he had been a slave. He didn't understand half of what happened there, only having a sense it was very bad. Then, one night, another slave came to him, telling him to hide, shutting him into a closet. Later that night, he heard screams from what sounded like the master's room, and when morning came, the slave was gone. That was the day he was sent back to the markets as well, and he had not seen the other slave since. He hoped he wasn't dead…

He himself didn't feel that well, though his body only bore a few of the scars most normal slaves had. It confused him as to why, but he decided that his scars were more those of the mind than of the body.

Right now, he was gazing in terror at a new customer, who was asking the dealer about price. It was the Albino, someone famed in the markets for forcing slaves into hard labor that seemed unfit for those he bought, and for an almost constant need of more. "Eh, I'm asking sixty thousand for him, sixty-five if I'm lucky," the merchant drawled, acting bored despite his eyes gleaming of profit. The Albino was also known for paying full price, no matter what condition of the slave. "It's a deal," he replied with a shrug. "I've bought kids his age for higher."

Kurow trembled, wondering what would happen to him now. Despite the words of his savior all those years ago, he still doubted that this white haired person could possibly be the one spoken of. After all, the words spoke of "she", but the Albino was clearly male, right? Besides, how could one known for ruthlessness in working be kind enough to help him? The money was thrown at the trader, who squealed in delight at its weight, before the Albino picked up the rope attached to Kurow and tugged it. "Come on, kid," he spoke, voice rough, though tinged with an odd softness. "Let's get you out of here."

The words seemed odd for so seasoned a slave owner, but Kurow obeyed, tottering after him on unsteady legs. Food had seemed ages away, along with water, and he wondered how far he'd be able to get before collapsing. They made their steady way through the winding paths of the market, finally emerging into a large field. The boy's eyes stretched; how long would it take to get across the field and to his new master's home? The Albino made no mention of distance, only hurrying on, until at last when several feet were between them and the slave market…

"Dang! Tsukuyomi was right, after all!"

The voice sounded more like a girl's than a guy's, less like the gruff voice he had heard from the Albino, and suddenly…

He was staring face to face with some lady, probably an older teen, who had pulled back her black hood to reveal her face. Her emerald green eyes reminded him of those he had seen so long ago, her hair white and reaching her shoulders, two white wolfy ears springing from her head. There was some war paint around her face, really weird for someone like her, and she didn't look that happy. "Now I owe him free dinner… Nice."

Kurow shook under the gaze, wondering if, since this was his fault, he was going to be punished for it. It seemed unlikely, however, since, the next minute, the girl was smiling down at him. "I'm Amaterasu, by the way, but you can call me Ammy."

He knew that name, knew that and Tsukuyomi, but where from he didn't know. Ammy didn't seem to care. "Exactly _how_ he knew a 'blue-eyed, golden haired boy about nine' would be here today, I don't know, but he does seem to have a gift for foresight…"

Kurow wondered, too. How had he ended up with this girl, who seemed to know exactly who she had been looking for? "Dunno, but I… I guess you could say I've been waiting for you, too…"

The words slipped out before he could stop them, and he covered his mouth incase he had said something wrong. Ammy cocked her head. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, then seemed to change her mind. "Eh, I'll let you tell me on the way home. That way we don't have to stick around here…"

With that, she lifted him up onto her shoulders, carrying him off. He told her of everything, from the fire to his mysterious rescue. "And then, the dude says to look for a white haired person, that she'd help… Guess he meant you…" he murmured finally, seeming much more comfortable with her. Ammy tried looking up at him, a difficult task with his arms wrapped around her neck. "Was he brown haired, emerald eyes?" she asked, head cocking. Kurow nodded weakly. "…Dang you, Tsukuyomi."

They finally reached a large, white manor-like house, fenced with red brick. There was a beautiful garden out in the front, and the door was dark green. Ammy carried him over the red and white pathway to the door, where another teen stood. "Ah, Ammy, you're back, and just in time! Chibi's going crazy in there, he wants to open presents now!" he exclaimed with a chuckle, golden eyes twinkling under his black hair. Ammy smirked. "I'm sure, Isshaku, but he'll have to wait a little while longer… Brought another one home to take care of."

Isshaku shook his head in disbelief, still smiling. "This seems to be a tradition," he commented with a snicker, "that you bring someone home on Chibi and Nichi's birthday. Last year it was Kuni, this year it's…"

He trailed off, glancing at Kurow, gulping as he realized he didn't know the other's name. "…Erm…"

Isshaku rolled his eyes. "Is it a custom for you to forget to ask people's names?" he commented dryly, a hidden, guarded look in his golden eyes. Ammy shrugged. "Twice is not a record," she replied, but Isshaku still looked disbelieving. "Uh-huh. Well, whatever your record, you're still forgetting something," he jabbed, smirking. Ammy started. "Oh, yeah. What is your name, kid?"

"It's Kurow…" he mumbled, before something white and blurred popped out the door. "Mooooooooooom, there you are, Kagu keeps telling me I'm not getting any presents-!"

His eyes fell on Kurow, pupils widening in disbelief. Kurow stared back, wondering if he was somehow wrong here, and he wondered if this was not the sort of present the child expected. Then, suddenly, he turned to Ammy. "Mom, Mom, I don't care anymore. You can give my presents to Nichi. Just let me take care of him!"

He pointed at Kurow, who gulped and buried his head into Ammy's shoulder. Ammy laughed at her son's infatuation, however. "Chibi, you've never tried before, I don't know if you should-"

"Please!" Chibi pleaded, eyes glowing. "I won't ask for anything else this year, I just want to take care of him!" His pleas seemed to resonate in Ammy's mind, for she set Kurow down on solid ground beside Chibi. "All right, just this once. You're still getting presents, though, I spent money on them-"

It was too late, as Kurow was already being pulled behind Chibi up the stairs. They reached the top, Kurow panting, and Chibi's wolf tail wagged. "First order of business, Mom says, is a bath!" he exclaimed jubilantly. Kurow stared. His wrists were still bound. "…Sorry about that."

There was a swish of Chibi's tail, and the bindings fell the ground. "Dude…" Kurow murmured. "How…?" He shook his head promptly; it probably wasn't his place to ask. Chibi shrugged, before heading down to near the end of the hallway. There was a tub inside, and Kurow winced. "Eh… I don't need to take a bath…" he said, backing off, even though he knew a bath was desperately needed. Chibi seemed to realize it, too. "Oh, no you don't!" he exclaimed, picking up a struggling Kurow and dumping him into the tub. His hand flew out, turning on the tap, and a spray of water splashed in Kurow's face from the showerhead. As he gagged and wiped his face, Chibi stuttered out an apology. "Sorry…"

The tub was finally filled with water, but Chibi continued to blunder, everything from the common case of "SOAP IN MY EYE" to Chibi's method of clearing off the soap, which happened to involve another tail swish and a wave of water. Kurow, who never learned to swim, was thoroughly reminded of why he hated water.

After that, he was dried off well enough, if being dried off meant being dumped on a towel that was rolled around him until he felt like a dumpling. A head poked in, the black hair and golden eyes identifying it as belonging to Isshaku. "Clothing?" he prompted helpfully, pushing in a bundle that included a pink vest, a mauve-ish knit no-sleeve sweater, and purple pants. Perched on top was a bright pink scarf. Chibi stared, then glanced at Isshaku. "I thought Kurow was a boy…?" he asked, head cocked. Kurow buried his reddened face in his hands. "…NOW you tell me."

Kurow collapsed to the floor in embarrassment.

* * *

The night went uneventful, minus some issues in trying to feed Kurow ("EAT IT OR I'LL DUMP IT ON THE FLOOR AND BLAME IT ON YOU!" "Oh, yeah, real mature," replied another boy who looked rather similar to Chibi, were it not for his hair, tail, and ears being as black as Chibi's were white). Now, at eight in the evening, it was, as Chibi said, "time for bed". Kurow followed him reluctantly, wondering what he meant by that…

His eyes widened as he gazed about the room. It was almost fully carpeted. Against the two walls rested two separate bunk beds, all ready for boys. There was a closet in one corner, and there was plenty of floor space, despite the fact the Chibi had dumped his "birthday gifts" in one spot already. Kurow blinked; he really wasn't sure what to do now, and he was suddenly beginning to remember his discomfort…

Appearing to notice the discomfort of his new friend, Chibi gave him a quick once-over, before scrambling up the steps of the left bunk, grabbing something and jumping down over the side. He nailed the landing, before crossing over to Kurow, grin on his face and something in his hands. "Crow," he explained, presenting Kurow with a small golden retriever plush. It had a red plaid scarf around its neck, but it was evident this had not come on the dog. It was also evident Chibi loved this plush. "I- no, I can't take it, he's yours, I-"

"I want you to have him~" Chibi replied brightly. "Take him, he's yours~"

Kurow did as he was told.

* * *

"Ah… Oh, well, can you tell Mom to make breakfast at least? I'm starved!" Chibi complained to the newcomer, expressing his incapacity to go without food for more than a few minutes. Kurow shook his head. It was impossible, he told himself; he could not possibly be related to this strange new person. All his family was dead, had to be; if they weren't he'd have been rescued long ago…

Yet, something nagged at him, and even he couldn't help but wonder if this stranger really was his long-lost family….


End file.
